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THE TEMPTED AND 


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8 ^ P I'’ ^ ^ p w t H H Jj p m 1 11: 


FROM 


EVE, THE WIFE OF THE FIRST, 


TO 


MART, THE MOTHER OF THE SECOND ADAM 



“ It has often seemed to the writer, that no greater service could be done 
to a large class of the community than to reproduce the Sacred Narrative, 
under the aspects which it presents to an imaginative mind, with the appli¬ 
ances of geographical, historical, and critical knowledge. ’— Mrs. Harriet 
Beecher Stowe. 


NE W- YOEK: 

SHELDON, BLAKEMAN & CO., 


115 NASSAU STREET. 


1857. 




i;U29 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, hy 
GEORGE C. BALDWIN, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for 
the Northern District of New York. 



JOHN J. REED, 
BTERKOTYPER AND PRINTER, 

16 Spruce Street, N. Y. 





TO 


W 0 M Ai: 


AND 

TO ALL THOSE WHO APPRECIATE HER TRUE POSITION 

AN! 

WORLD-WIDE INFLUENCE, 

® 1;i0 1) 01time 


IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. 


.-/■« • ' 

' ‘ Si' -- ‘f' J * V’ • f ‘T« o ■/: 

.033modn» ^ 

I 



rw 



PREFACE. 


Troy, N. Y., F^, 10, 1855. 

Rev. G. 0. Baldwin, D.B. 

Dear Sir: The undersigned, who constitute the boards 
of Deacons and of Trustees in the Church and Society 
over which you are Pastor, having listened with pleasure 
and profit to your Lectures on Scripture Female Charac¬ 
ters, and believing, that on account of the Biblical, Histori¬ 
cal, and Practical instruction they embody, they are adapt¬ 
ed to be extensively and permanently useful,—therefore, 
earnestly advise their publication in book-form. 

Respectfully and affectionately your friends. 


Joseph Hastings, 
Abraham Numan, 
Curtis Wilbur, 
John B, Ford, 


Justus E, Gregory, 
Calvin Warner 
Francis Warriner, 
James R. Prentice, 
F. A. Fales. 


Geo. R. Davis, 
James Wager, 
Geo. H. Philip.s, 
S. S. Sargeant, 


Gentlemen :— 

Confiding more in your judgment than in my own, I have 
resolved to publish the Lectures, to which you allude in 
such kind terms. It may be well to accompany them with 
the following prefatory remarks. 

1. As to their title. It was the English Carlyle, I be¬ 
lieve, who first employed the phrase “ Representative 



Vlll 


PREFACE. 


Men,” whicli our American Emerson has made the title of 
one of his .best books. It occurred to me, that if there 
were in history, men who stand forth, not merely as re¬ 
presentatives of ideas, but of classes of their fellow-men, it 
might be found that in the Bible record, there were wo¬ 
men who could be appropriately viewed, not merely as his¬ 
toric personages, but as representatives of classes of their 
sex. With this thought before me, I have been delighted 
beyond expression, in my studies, by finding the full reali¬ 
zation of the suggestion referred to. Is not Eve, as we 
have considered her, a representative of tempted and fallen 
females ? Is not Sarah,, of loving and deferential wives ? 
Bebecca, of managing women? Jochebed, of faithful and 
devoted mothers ? Miriam, of ancient prophetesses, and 
modern women, who never marry ? Euth, of young wi¬ 
dows and daughters-in-law ? Endor’s Witch, of female 
spiritualists ? Abigail, of that large class of superior wo¬ 
men married to inferior men ? Sheba’s Queen, of wise 
women ? Esther, of beauteous womanhood on the throne 
of royalty? Elizabeth, of believing wives? And the 
blessed Mary, the most highly honored of women ; is she 
not a type of maternal tenderness and devotion ? In these 
facts I have found a justification of the title I have given- 
my book. 

2. Another object, collateral it is true, but important 
and desirable, as it has seemed to me, I have kept in view 
throughout. It was to present for the edification of youth, 
in families. Sabbath Schools, and Bible classes, the con¬ 
nections of Sacred History, from Eve, the wife of the first 
Adam, down to Mary, the mother of the second Adam. 
This I have attempted to do, by selecting one prominent 
female of a period, and grouping around her the chief in- 



PREFACE. 


ix 


cidents of that period. Thus viewed, the hook has a unity, 
which it could not possess if it consisted merely of discon¬ 
nected Lectures. 

3. I have taken the liberty of placing a sentence from Mrs. 
Stowe’s writings, on the title-page, simply for this pur¬ 
pose—it contains the evidence, that in the view of so ac¬ 
complished and distinguished a writer—there is a 'place 
for a book of this kind in the necessities of “ a large class 
of the community.” Whether my work, as far as it goes 
in the direction she indicates, will even approximate the 
“ service” to which she refers, I must leave my readers to 
judge. 

4. Many of those who heard them, have desired the 
publication of these Lectures, in the same popular and 
often redundant style of language in which they were de¬ 
livered. This, I am aware, is far better for the pulpit, 
than that sententiousness, which a severer taste would pre¬ 
fer in a book. But I commit them to the press substan¬ 
tially as they were spoken, with only such verbal correc¬ 
tions, and filling up as was necessary, in the hope that in 
this form they may make up in vivacity what they may 
lack in thought. 

5. Inasmuch as the gracious Lord was pleased to bless 
these Lectures, to the permanent good of many who heard 
them, by leading them to study with interest many ne¬ 
glected portions of His sacred Word; inasmuch as the 
divine Spirit graciously honored them, as the means He 
employed to awaken and convert souls; and inasmuch as 
their delivery was followed by the most precious and ex¬ 
tensive revival of religion which many of us had ever wit¬ 
nessed—I hopefully commend my humble volume to Him, 
with the earnest prayer that His blessing may go with it. 



X 


PREFACE. 


and cause it to be one of those instrumentalities by which, 
though feeble in themselves, He is carrying forward His 
purposes of grace toward our world. 

I am, gentlemen, with sincere affection. 

Your pastor and friend, 

G. C. Baldwin. 

Troy^ July 10, 1855. 



GOIf SIf 


EVE, 

THE TEMPTED AND FALLEN WOMAN. 

The Primal Earth—New Form of Existence—The First 
Woman—Her Personal Appearance—Ideal of Artists— 
Titian—Powers—Earth’s First Bridal—Marriage— 
Campbell—Bobert Hall—The Temptation—The Fall 
—Milton—The Banishment—Earth’s First Family— 
Two deeply interesting facts in relation to it—The First 
Murderer—First Corpse—Agony—Is Eve in Heaven?— 
Lessons Concerning Woman’s Relation to Man—Wo¬ 
man’s Danger—Woman’s Influence..17 


SARAH, 

THE DEFERENTIAL WIFE. 

Three Facts Concerning Her—Isaiah—Paul—Peter— 
Points in Her Biography of Deep Interest—Idolatry— 
Chaldean Philosophy—Its Defect—Sarah’s Culture—■ 
Her Piety—The Transaction with Hagar—New Testa 
ment Testimony—Appeal—Domestic Character—His¬ 
tory—Her Character as Wife—Mother—Why she sent 
away Hagar and Ishmael—Practical Love for Children 
—Her Estimate of Personal Beauty— Willis—Earth’s 
First Funeral—Poetry,. - - 39 




xii 


CONTENTS. 


REBECCA, 

THE MANAGING WOMAN. 

Fidelity a Feature of Bible Biography—Rebecca’s Home 
in Mesopotamia—Her Maiden Character and Beauty— 
The Patriarch’s Tent at Gerar—The Messenger—The 
Scene at the Well-side—The Message—The Return— 
Gold Threads—Faith—Prayer in Exigencies—Life 
Crises—Providence—Female Politeness to Strangers— 
Flowers—Her Married Life—Black Threads—Partiali¬ 
ty in Families—Presumption—Deceit—Management— 
The Successful Plot—The Fearful Results—What a 
Pure Woman may Become—Consequences—Guilt— 
Beautiful Poem..61 


JOCHEBED, 

THE FAITHFUL MOTHER. 

Egypt’s Mysteries—Darius—Antony—Napoleon—The 
Asylum of Jesus—Jewish History—The Bitter Perse¬ 
cution—The Mother’s "Sagacity in Peril—Power of 
Prayer—Divine Purposes—Providence—Thermuthis— 
Power of Tears of Infancy—Poetry—The Blissful 
Restoration—A Panoramic Group—Five Figures—A 
Mother’s Love—Mrs. Hemans—Alexander—Washing¬ 
ton—A Mother’s Influence—Her Reward—The Parting 
—John Q. Adams—John Randolph of Roanoake^ 
Poetry....86 






CONTENTS 


xiii 


MIRIAM, 

THE FIRST PROPHETESS. 

Influence of Local Associations in the Formation of Cha¬ 
racter—Egypt’s Mysteries—The Interest which Christian 
minds feel in Egypt—Miriam’s Vigil by the Sacred 
River—Her Triumphant Song at the Red Sea—The 
History Continued—The Plagues—Their Four-fold 
Object—A Critical Development of the Wonderful 
Manner in which those Objects were Attained—Miriam’s 
Sin and its Punishment—What was it ?—The Guilt and 
Prevalency of it in our own times—Her Death—Daniel 
Webster—The Victory over the Last Enemy—Bry¬ 
ant. .110 


RUTH, 

THE YOUNG WIDOW. 

Constitutional Love of Variety—Nature and the Bible— 
The Book of Ruth—Voltaire—Singular Incident—The 
Judges—A Family—Emigration—Death—Happiness 

_Desolation—The Return—A Country Gentleman— 

Jewish Law—Night Scene on the Threshing Floor— 
Mile. DeSombreuil—The Marriage—Joy of Old Age- 
Astonishing Development of Special Providence—Beth¬ 
lehem—Its Associations—A Curious Fact—Who Told 
the World that Ruth was a Beauty ?—Her Unselfish¬ 
ness—Disinterested Love—Industry—James Russel 
Lowell— Piety—Exhortation—Beautiful Scripture. 133 





XIV 


CONTENTS. 


ENDOR’S WITCH, 

THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 

Special Attention Requested to this Lecture—The Cha¬ 
racters of Samuel, Saul, and the Witch Analysed— 
Their Conditions Described—Parallel between Saul 
and Macbeth—Did Shakspeare take the History of the 
former as a model for the latter ?—The Witch Scene— 
A New Interpretation—Poetry—The Battle on Gilboa— 
The Sad Lamentation—Light thrown on a large Class 
of what are called Spiritual Manifestations—The Philo¬ 
sophical probability in regard to the Remaining Class— 
A Parallel Traced—The Witch’s Sabbath—Objections 
Examined—The Validity of Proof from Consciousness 
Tested—Reasons for Opposing “ Spiritualism”—The 
Boasts of its Advocates Considered, &c. &c. - - 159 


ABICAIL, 

THE SUPERIOR WIFE OF AN INFERIOR HUSBAND. 

The reign of David—Analysis of his Character—Hazlitt’s 
Slander—A Family Scene—Husband and Wife—Wil¬ 
derness Scene in Paran—A Deputation—Threaten¬ 
ing Aspects—Another Deputation—Carmel—An Im¬ 
promptu Address by Abigail—Its high Character— 
Effect—Woman’s Energy—Her Success—The Unla¬ 
mented Death—The Lecturer Attains an Object—Why 
has Abigail been so Neglected by Readers and Artists ? 
—Two Pictures—A Wilderness and a Home Scene— 
Why did she Marry a “ Churl ?”—Power of Family and 
Money—Hood—Duty Illustrated — Three Visions— 
Abigail Justified—Advice to Women Similarly Situated 
—Woman’s Privilege—Woman’s True Support. - 200 




CONTENTS. 


XV 


SHEBA’S QUEE^l, 

THE WISE WOMAN. 

The Significancy of Little Things—Analagy between Na¬ 
ture and the Bible—Solomon—His Wisdom—Cause of 
his Fall—Coleridge—The Localitj^of this Queen’s Throne 
—Her Country—Its Extent—Productions—Milton— 
Moore—Her Journey— Its Object—Distance—The 
Localities she Passed—Her Reception at Jerusalem— 
The Sources whence she Learned Wisdom—Rer Return 
—The Profitableness of this Record—Woman on the 
Throne of Empire—Semiramis—Zenobia—Elizabeth— 
Isabella—Martha Griar—Volumnia andYirgilia—Why 
so few Women are now on Thrones—Her True King¬ 
dom—The Intellectual Character of Balkis—Her Moral 
and Religious Character—Popular Female Education— 
Dancing—Superior Wisdom—Three Pictures. - 223 


ESTHER, 

THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 

Significancy of Jewish names—How came Esther in 
Persia—Jewish History from Solomon to Esther—■ 
Panoramic Views—View Firsts The Palace—Banquet 
—Divorce. View Second^ The Plan—Shushan—An 
Orphan Maiden—The Competition. View Thirds Moi- 
tified Pride—The Edict—Triumph. View Fourth^ De¬ 
solation—Esther’s Character Analysed—The Message— 
Wail of Expiring Hope—Success. View Sixth —A 
Sleepless Night—Haman’s Joy—His Overthrow. View 
Seventh —Retributive Justice— Why is the name of God 
not found in the book of Esther ?—Effects of Pride- 
Meditations, &c. &o... 249 





XVI 


CONTENTS. 


ELIZABETH, 

THE BELIEVING WIFE. 

Reasons for Omitting Discussions of the Characters of 
many Prominent Females in the Bible—The Chief 
Historical Facts, which connect the Old and New Tes¬ 
tament Records—Antiochus Epiphanes—Mattathias— 
Alexander— Pompey—Marianne—Anna—An Epoch 
of Vast Interest—The Pious Wife—Her Joy in a 
Pious Husband—Dr. Jay—A Temple Scene—Grabriel’s 
Message—Not “ Rapped ” Out, but Spoken—Unbelief 
—Its Punishment—A Home Scene—Another—And 
another Still—A First-born Babe—The Exultant An¬ 
them—Mothers Live in the Lives of their Children— 
Napoleon—What manner of Child shall this be?—Two 
Startling Facts.. .277 


MARY, 

THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 

An Author’s Title to His Book—“ Thoughts for those 
Who Think ”—Nazareth—Its Mountains and Associa¬ 
tions—The Personal Appearance of Mary—Romish 
Pictures—The Annunciation—The Journey—The Visit 
—A Magnificent Anthem—The First G-reat Trial— 
Joseph—An Imperial Edict—The Advent—The Cir¬ 
cumcision —Simeon— Anna—Suetonius—Tacitus— 
Philo—Josephus—The Discussion in the Temple—A 
Public Incident—The Calvary Scene—Her Prophetic 
Relations—Argument—Her Relation to the Gospel— 
Review of the New Papal Dogma concerning Her— 
Picture at Milan—Queen Isabella—Six Arguments— 
Mary’s Real Character—Prophecy Fulfilled. - '301 





EVE 


Simgteb anb Jfallen ®0man. 


Gen, 3 .* 13. “ And the woman said—The Serpent beguiled me, and 
1 did eatP 

There must have been a first woman : so our 
reason would teach us, had we no Kevelation. And 
upon this necessity suggested by our reason, light is 
thrown only from the Bible ; which Kohert Hall, in 
that fine utterance of his princely intellect said, 
contains the true words of God.'^ This sacred 
volume—hoary with an antiquity of which no other 
book can boast—environed and impregnated with 
divinity—radiant with the constellated glory of the 
entire system of moral and religious truth—like a 
divine illuminator, throws light, not only on the 
future of time and eternity, but on all past time, 
and even upon the unknown depths of a past eter¬ 
nity. 

Here is a record of the early history of this earth 
and man, bearing the attest of Jehovah ; which, by 
its general tone of truthfulness, unparalleled senten- 



18 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


tiousness, and divine simplicity, has commended it¬ 
self to the intelligence of the wisest, greatest, and 
best minds the race has produced. This informs us 
who the first woman was ; where she lived, and what 
were the leading events in her life. It is a fact of 
interest to us, that she was the mother of all liv¬ 
ing —our great common mother. On this account, 
the beautiful and significant name of Eve,^' mean¬ 
ing life,"^ was given her. Let us consider 

THE BIOGRAPHY OF EVE, AND ITS LESSONS. 

The record tells us, that there had been in the 
universe, hut two forms of existence besides divinity ; 
one purely material, the other purely spiritual—an¬ 
gelic. Ancient as eternity in the Divine mind, how¬ 
ever, was the purpose^to create a new form of ex¬ 
istence, not merely animal, not merely spiritual; 
but a combination of both ; with which, should be 
associated some of the most far-reaching designs of 
the Eternal; and some of the most glorious, as well 
as awful results to His universe. 

We may conceive of Grod, when the period arrived 
for the consummation of this creative purpose ; as 
looking over existing worlds, and perceiving none 
adapted to be the home of this new existence ; and 
that therefore, out of the chaotic mass of physical 
elements, which may have existed millions of years 
before. He formed this new world. He spake and 
it was done''—“He commanded and it stood fast." 



EVE. 


19 


A new planet, fresh and radiant with primeval 
beauty, revolved in mid-heaven, and angels, those 
elder sons of God, over it shouted anthems of joy, 
which were echoed 

“ From world to luminous world, as far 

As the universe spreads its flaming wall 

welcoming the virgin Earth to the sisterhood of 
worlds. 

First vegetables, next animals, and finally man, 
the* last and mightiest work, was created. With a 
material body, whose form was erect and noble, 
whose brow was crowned with honor and glory, as 
the lord of this lower world ; he had a God-breathed 
soul, with faculties and endowments, upon which, 
was enstamped the moral image of his Creator. 
Thus, he stood in the perfection of humanity, with 
cerulean skies above him, earth's green carpet be¬ 
neath him, and sweet flowers, beauteous scenery, 
and harmless animals around him ; while the air 
was laden with the fragrance of flowers, and vocal 
with the melody of warbling birds. But lie was alone. 
There was no human heart, against which he could 
lean his own, with its wild joyous throbbings : there 
was no human face, into which he could look, and 
see reflected the bright bliss which beamed from his : 
there was no one constituted like himself, to whom 
he could speak and say, “ how beautiful is this our 
home "—how good our Father who made it thus.” 



20 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Therefore,” the Lord God said, It is not good for 
man to be alone ; I will make a helpmeet for 
him.” And He caused a deep sleep to fall upon 
Adam, and he slept, and He took one of his ribs, 
and closed up the flesh instead thereof; and the 
rib which the Lord God had taken from man, made 
he a woman and brought her unto man.” 

With the philosophy of this, I have nothing to do. 
Why the Almighty thus created woman, we are not 
told ; the fact only, is before us ; and thus, we have 
presented to us the first woman, who never knew 
an infancy, nor childhood, nor youth, but came from 
the hand of her Creator, fresh in the maturity of a 
perfect womanhood. Of her personal appearance 
we have no account ; but we do know that she was 
the outwrought, divine ideal of a •perfect woman. 
It is a great truth, that every product of the crea¬ 
tive power, previously existed as a thought, in the 
mind of God. A true artist's ideal of female form 
and figure, is beautiful, as we see it developed in the 
Venus of Titian, and the Greek Slave of Powers. 
This ideal of great artists, has been too grand for 
their unaided art to embody, and therefore they 
have sought material models to aid its realization 
in marble or on the canvass. But how supremely 
glorious must have been the embodiment of God's 
ideal of a woman ! how resplendent her virginal 
beauty—^how unsullied her purity—how perfect her 
grace ! with what rapturous joy the first man must 



EVE. 


21 


have gazed on the first woman—radiant with tran¬ 
scendent loveliness, who was to be his companion— 
his bosom friend—his wife. And Adam said, this 

is now bone of my bone, and fiesh of my flesh : she 
shall be called woman, because she was taken out 
of man. Therefore shall a man leave his father and 
his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and 
they shall be one flesh.'^ 

1^'ow we have before us the first married 'pair. 
Eve, whom we have contemplated as the first wo¬ 
man, appears as the first bride—the first wife. And 
here too, we have the original institution of mar¬ 
riage, with which is associated so many of the great¬ 
est blessings of life. For, 

“ Till Hymen brought his love delighted hour, 

There dwelt no joy in Eden’s rosy bower! 

In vain the viewless seraph lingering there, 

At starry midnight charmed the silent air; 

In vain the wild-bird caroll’d on the steep, 

To hail the sun, slow wheeling from the deep; 

In vain, to soothe the solitary shade, 

JErial notes in mingling measure play’d; 

The summer wind that shook the spangled tree 
The whispering wave, the murmur of the bee ; 

Still slowly pass’d the melancholy day. 

And still the stranger, wist not where to stray; 

The world was sad !—the garden was a wild ; 

And man, the hermit, sifhed—till woman smiled!’ 

Truly said the most eloquent of British preach¬ 
ers, that, Marriage institutions are the great 
civilizers of the world, and essential to the welfare 



22 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


of mankind. They are the source of tenderness as 
well as guardian of peace. Without the permanent 
union of the sexes, there can be no union of fami- 
ies ; the dissolution of nuptial ties involves the dis¬ 
solution of domestic society. But domestic society 
is the seminary of the social affections, the cradle of 
sensibility, where the first elements are acquired of 
that tenderness and humanity which cement man¬ 
kind together; and were they extinguished, the 
whole fabric of social institutions would be dissolved.” 
In the record we are now considering, you have the 
origin of this world-blessing institution ; you see 
the first human pair united in marriage bonds— 
eartVs first hridal. 

Next, is the account of first human sin. To 
understand the nature of this, we must remember 
that our primal parents, by divine arrangement were 
made representatives of their race ; whose moral 
character, whether good or evil, must descend to 
their posterity, who would inherit it from them, as 
truly as their physical nature ; that they were 
created moral agents, endowed with the power of 
choice of good or evil, whose happiness and moral 
condition, and that of their race, depended on their 
choosing the good, whose highest virtue, therefore, 
should consist in voluntary obedience. The strength 
of their will to obey, could only be tested by trial; 
and there could be no trial without temptation ; 
therefore temptation was presented: but accom- 



EVE. 


23 


panied by the most fearful warning. Many have 
expressed surprise at the character of the tempta¬ 
tion. It has seemed strange to them that such 
stupendous results should be suspended on the eat¬ 
ing of an apple. 

But you must remember that the essence of sin, 
consists not in the apparent smallness or greatness 
of the overt act. If your daughter steals a ribbon 
worth six pence, she is as really a thief as if she 
stole ten thousand dollars. You must reflect, what 
temptation could have been presented ? They 
could be guilty of no crime now common. They 
were in daily communion with their Creator ; and 
such was their condition that in neither idolatry,” 
‘‘ blasphemy,” ‘‘ Sabbath breaking,” “ dishonoring 
of parents,” murder,” “ adultery,” theft,” 

false witness,” or covetousness,” was it scarcely 
possible that they could sin. 

Observe the kindness of God, developed in the 
nature of the temptation presented. It did not ad¬ 
dress itself to any necessity of her nature, or cir¬ 
cumstances. It did not address itself to any want, 
for the supply of which He had not adequately pro¬ 
vided. For Eden abounded with every variety of 
fruit. 

Keflect again—^what is the root of all sin ? God 
knew that all crimes which could ever be commit¬ 
ted, would spring from one alone—disobedience to 
His righteous will; and therefore was it that His 



24 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


infinite wisdom ordained that the trial of man's 
love, and faith, and virtue should simply be obedience 
to His will, expressed in the clearest, most direct 
form. 

Yielding to the seductions of the Tempter—to 
the unlawful exercise of elements natural to her con¬ 
stitution, Eve disobeyed God, partook of the forbid¬ 
den fruit. And perchance through curiosity, pre¬ 
sumption, overweening trust in her own strength 
—the desire to act alone, to become wiser and 
greater, and higher in the scale of being than the 
station in which her Father placed her : perchance 
attracted by novelty, beauty—those idol shrines at 
.which woman so often sacrifices herself, she fell.’* 
Oh ! in that hour of peril, why did she not flee 
from the Tempter's spell to her husband's shelter¬ 
ing bosom ? Oh ! in that hour of peril, why did 
she not look heavenward and cry, Father, help ?" 
She had free will, she had equal power to call upon 
the Lord, as to listen to the Tempter. Alas ! the 
bulwark of faith within her was gone 1 She had 
deliberately, voluntarily disobeyed the command of 
her God, and its fearful penalty was upon her. For 
awhile we may suppose her to have experienced the 
wild intoxication of sinful joy, while conscious of 
her independence, having shaken off the divine con¬ 
trol—broken through the barriers, love had thrown 
around her. 

But she was a changed being—she was a rebel— 



EVE. 


25 


she was a sinner : so that we see the first woman, 
the first bride, the first wife, was, alas, alas, the first 
human sinner. Oh ! could you have seen her then, 
you would have seen wild agitation in that heart 
where all had been peace ; you had seen lines of care 
forming on that hitherto placid brow, which were 
never to be effaced. 

Now behold the progressive nature of sin. She in 
turn becomes a tempter : with her own hand, she 
takes the forbidden fruit to him, and conscious of 
her power over Adam, induces him to eat. Per¬ 
chance had the first tempter—the Devil—presented 
that forbidden fruit to him he had spurned it, with 
holy indignation ; but at a glance, he saw that his 
wife had fallen ; and her fair hand now beckoned 
him, down the fearful abyss, and he yielded—he 
fell. The trial was passed ; both stood voluntarily 
disobedient to the plain, positive will of God,—their 
holiness was lost—the fatal blow against the divine 
government was struck : 

“ Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat 
Sighing, through all her works gave signs of woe, 

That all was lost !****** 

Skies lower’d, and, muttering thunder, some sad drops 

Wept, at completing of the mortal sin 

Original.” 

The first development of their sin was shame. Ah ! 
sin, is evermore, the mother of shame ! 

You remember the next scene.—The Lord God 
2 



26 


EEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


appears in the garden, as he was wont in the cool of 
the day ; they hear his voice,—which had always 
been a father’s voice, with tones laden with pater¬ 
nal love, ab the sound of which, like happy children, 
they were wont to joyously hasten to meet Him. 
But now, conscious of their guilt, they dare not 
meet him. We hear the rn exclaim : 

“ Ah ! whither shall we fly 7 what path untrod 
Shall we seek out to ’scape the flaming rod 
Of our offended,- of our angry God.” 

Concealment amid embowering foliage is vain, for, 
through the “ trees of the garden” the authorita¬ 
tive voice penetrated, saying, ‘^Adam, where art 
thou ?” Slowly the guilty pair approach, and be¬ 
hold, how fallen I Adam’s first utterance to his 
God WTS a falsehood,—“ I was afraid because I was 
naked.” Was that the cause of his fear ? Was 
he naked ? 

Behold the next evidence of his degradation— 
his loss of true manliness. Instead of acknowledg¬ 
ing his personal guilt ; assuming his individual re¬ 
sponsibility, and sheltering, so far as he might, the 
pallid wife who trembled at his side, he selfishly 
said, “ The ivoman whom thou gavest to be with 
me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat !” 
Oh ! what a change sin makes in a man’s heart, as 
well as in his spirit. Those cold, unkind words 
must have entered Eve’s heart, and caused a bitter 
pang. And when the Lord said to her, VYliat is 



EVE. 


27 


this that thou hast done instead of acknowledg¬ 
ing her guilt, she said, The serpent beguiled me.” 
Then, the evidence of guilt complete, God pro¬ 
nounced the penalty of their sin upon them, Unto 
the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sor¬ 
row and conception. In sorrow shalt thou bring 
forth children ; and thy desire shall be to thy hus¬ 
band, and he shall rule over thee.” 

The next event in the biography of Eve is one of 
mournful interest, to adequately picture which, I, 
should need, as Shelley grandly says— 

“ Hues, as when some mighty painter dips 
His pen in dyes of earthquake and eclipse.” 

Eemember, that though she had fallen from hei 
high estate ; that though birds, which had once 
nestled in her bosom, now fled aw^ay in fear ; that 
though young animals which once had playfully 
gamboled around her, now fled at her approach ; 
that though beasts of the field, which had once 
slept at her feet, now slunk away from her with gla¬ 
ring eyeballs ; that still, Eden was her home— 
where she had spent so many blissful hours—the 
only place in which she had ever lived. Kemom- 
ber, what home is to a woman's heart, that none 
can sing with such pathos as woman, those familiar 
heart-words, 

“ Home, home, sweet, sweet home, 

Be it ever so homely, there is no place like home.” 



28 


REPKESENTATITE WOMEN. 


Eden was Eve's home ; but now she must leave it— 
leave it in consequence of her own act ; leave it 
forever. Never more may she breathe its fragrance¬ 
laden atmosphere,—never more may she see its gor¬ 
geous flowers, or taste its luscious fruits—never more 
may she recline in its shady bowers, with its aro¬ 
matic zephyrs playing around her. 0, unexpected 
stroke, worse than of Death I” Eve must bid fare¬ 
well to this her early—her only home, must go forth 
into other, and untried scenes. Poor, wretched, 
sinful, exiled Eve ! mother of us all, our hearts 
bleed while we think of thee leaving Paradise, 
taking thy last, long, lingering look of thy once 
happy home, and going forth, with a soul agonized 
with pain and guilt, into the wide wastes of a world 
all unknown to thee ! well mightest thou exclaim, 

“ Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ! thus leave 
Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades. 

Fit haunt of Gods ! where I had hoped to spend, 

Quiet though sad, the respite of that day 
That must be mortal to us both !” 

We have now reached the closing portion of 
her life, which embraces her history as a mother^ 
The record says, that many sons and daughters 
were born unto thembut the names of only three 
of the children of our first parents are given : Not 
the name of a single daughter is mentioned. Is 
there any significancy in this fact ? 

Her first burn was a son. It may secrn strange, 



EVE. 


29 


that she did not call him after her hushand. His 
was the only name she had ever heard ; hut in her 
joy she exclaimed, I have gotten a man from the 
Lord/' and therefore she called his name Cain/' 
which signifies possession." With what yearning 
tenderness she must have pressed that baby boy— 
that first-horn of earth to her bosom ; what sweet 
hopes were born with him ! Alas ! alas ! how lit¬ 
tle she dreamed of the new agony that child would 
bring upon her. Another element of her joy may 
have been, that in him, she thought she recognized 
the promised seed—the hope of the race—who 
should bruise the serpent's head." 

The name given to her second son was ^^Abel." 
It is worthy of note, that while Adam gave names 
to the beasts of the field. Eve gave names to her 
children. And mark how significant each is. Cain 
signifies possession, the gotten one /' and ‘^Abel,'' 
transient, or vanity while he, who was born 
after the death of Abel, she called Seth," the 
substitute one." Why did she call her second boy 
‘^Abel," a name of such strange significance ? It 
may have been because of his physical weakness, he 
may have been a feeble child, whom she thought 
short lived—a pale flower that might soon fade and 
die. Or was it because Cain's boyhood had disap¬ 
pointed her fond hopes, by developing those fierce 
passions which, not only wrought such fearful mis¬ 
chief, but satisfied her mind, that he could not be 



30 


REPRESENTATIVE WOBIEN. 


the promised seed ? For one, or both of these rea¬ 
sons, as she embraced her second born, despondently 
she called him ‘^Abel"'—transient for so she 
felt all around her to be, even those fond, maternal 
hopes, whose rainbow hues had spanned her sky for 
a brief while, and then faded av/ay before newly 
gathering storm clouds. 

Two interesting facts deserve attention at this 
point, which throw light upon the internal character 
of earth's first family; and give ground for hope, 
that though fallen, our first parents were penitent 
—had faith in the divine promise, and were endea¬ 
voring to serve Grod. One is, that they religiously 
educated their children —both of these sons are 
found offering sacrifices to God. The other is, that 
they brought up their children to labor; for we find 
both had occupations. We have now reached the 
last recorded scene. 

A bitterer cup awaited her than any she had yet 
tasted ; a cup, than which, none more bitter could 
press a mother's^lips. Her boys had grown toman- 
hood. The one stalwart and strong, but rude and 
high tempered; the other, delicate and fair, but 
gentle and loving—a nature adapted to soothe a 
mother's sorrows, and by gentle ministries gladden 
a mother's loneliness. Cain's heart was evil, there¬ 
fore the Scriptures say, “ his works were evil 
%hile Abel's heart was pure, therefore his works 
were righteous. John asks, Why did Cain slay 



EVE. 


31 


Abel ? Because his own works were evil and his 
brother's righteous." Did not their mother know of 
this ? She must have known it; and knowing it, 
while she still loved with all a mother’s deathless 
affection, her first born, wicked boy, her poor heart 
must have clung to her second born, her pure and 
righteous Abel ; gathering tenderly around him, 
her future hopes. He gave her no anxiety—he 
caused her no trouble ; he was sunlight to her dark¬ 
some dwelling—he was all—and 0, how much that 
is ! how much a kind, affectionate, devoted son can 
be, to a fond and doting mother! 

One bright morning, as was his wont, he bade 
her adieu, and with jocund step, left the home to 
which he was never more to return ; and went to 
the fields to his daily charge. Ah ! poor Eve ! she 
dreamed not as she watched his loved form receding 
in the distance, that she was never again to see it ; 
never again to clasp it in her arms, until death, 
hitherto unknown, had encircled it in his icy em- .-y 

brace. Envious and hating, Cain raises his mur- 
derous hand, and strikes his younger brother the'^ 
fatal blow. Starting back in wild horror from his 
fearful deed, Cain, the first son, stands in the face of 
his God, the first of earth’s murderers. Wretched 
Cain ! the shed blood of thy brother cries out to 
heaven ! Those lo\ing eyes are now closed f6rever ; 
that gentle heart will beat no more ; the life bloody-- % 
gurgles from out the gaping wound ; and the first 



32 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


human corpse heavily presses that soil, which has so 
often since been wet with human gore. How long 
it laid there before Eve knew of the murder, we are 
not told ; long hours may have intervened. Per¬ 
chance, weary with waiting for his return, she saw 
the day close—the sun disappear—mountain sha¬ 
dows steal over the plain—soft moonbeams begin 
to silver the tree tops, until she becomes restless and 
uneasy, with that strange and undefined foreboding 
which unknown evil sometimes throws beiore it, 
over the human heart. Perchance she said, I 
will go' and meet my returning boy.'’' Over the 
quiet plains, by the familiar path, I see her wend 
her lonely, anxious way, towards whither she knew 
he went ; I see her approach the dreadful spot, 
and discover some dark object in the dim dis¬ 
tance—she draws nearer, and nearer, and nearer; 
the object takes form, and oh ! merciful God ! she 
recognizes her gentle, loving Abel, prostrate and 
motionless ! Eve had never seen a corpse. She 
knew not what death was. She had never heard 
that name but once, and then it was part of her sen¬ 
tence in the garden. Therefore, while pale moon¬ 
beams are falling upon his paler face, she wildly 
looks into it, and exclaims, “Abel, my son, speak, 
oh, speak to your mother !" Those pale lips move 
not, and tenderly she puts forth her hand to arouse 
him from what seems a strange stupor—her hand 
touches blood, she finds the wound, and, like a 



EVE. 


33 


lightning flash, the thought now comes upon her, 
‘‘ this is death !’' And here my own heart fails ! 
My imagination reels ! I cannot conceive ! Oh ! 
mothers, mothers ! you alone can conceive the im¬ 
measurable agony that rent her maternal bosom, as 
she saw her darling son, dead, murdered : you alone 
can conceive the torturing grief which the know¬ 
ledge brought with it, as to who must have been the 
perpetrator of this direful deed ; for she could but 
know that it was Cain, his brother, her first born, 
in whose infancy she had experienced such wild joy, 
and in regard to whom she had indulged such glo¬ 
rious hopes ! And here ends Eve's biography. 

Of Adam it is said, that he lived nine hun¬ 
dred and thirty years." But we are not told how 
long Eve lived ; when she died; where she died, 
or how she died. That she died a penitent woman, 
exercising faith in the Messiah, God had promised 
her; that through the riches of grace she was saved, 
and received into the celestial Paradise, which is 
far more lovely and glorious than her primeval Eden 
home, we will^ we do most joyously believe. We 
cling with unyielding tenacity to the belief, that 
even as she was the first woman who ever trod our 
earth, she was the first woman from earth, who, 
saved by that grace, which threw the rainbow of 
promise over the black cloud of legal penalty— 
reached the flowery plains of the Eden above—the 
first female voice that mingled with angelic choirs. 



34 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Eve^s biography teaches — 

I. A lesson in regard to the true relation of the 
sexes to each other. Ever since the fall, greater or 
less degradation has been the lot of woman. Men 
have claimed lofty superiority over them in all 
lands and ages ; and in some nations have reduced 
them to almost the level of the brute creation. In 
ages brilliant with mere intellectual splendor, they 
have been made the slaves of toil and passion, 
their intellectual endowments have been overlooked, 
and even their immortality practically denied. But, 
with the progress of Christianity, woman's nature, 
duties, and destiny have been appreciated, and her 
true relations to God and man developed. Thus 
the promised seed" has become the alleviator 
from one portion of her personal curse. How clearly 
her essential relations to man are exhibited, in the 
biography of the first woman. , She was not ‘^made 
of the dust of the earth," but made of what God 
took out of man. He could have created woman 
by a word, or created her at the same time that he 
did Adam. But he created man first, and gave him 
dominion over the world, and then when about to 
create woman. He said, I will make a help-meet 
for him." And was there not great significance in 
God's creating woman out of what he took from the 
side of man ? This significance once struck the 
mind of a young lady, and she asked a surgeon 

Why woman was made from the rib of man, in 



EVE. 


35 


preference to any other bone He gave the fol¬ 
lowing gallant answer—“ She was not taken from 
the head of man, lest she should rule over him ; 
nor from his feet, lest he should trample upon her ; 
hut she was taken from his side, that she might he 
his equal—from under his arm, that he might protect 
her, from near his heart, that he might cherish and 
love her.” In this record then, let women learn 
the relation that God instituted between her and 
man. Let wives remember, the design of God in 
relation to them is, that they should be help-meets 
for their husbands ; and, 0 what a helper amid 
life's heavy toils, corroding cares and ceaseless anx¬ 
ieties, is a true woman—a loving wife ! 

Let no false pride, no mawkish sentimentalism 
keep women from fulfilling this God-assigned mis¬ 
sion, and cheerfully occupying this her noblest posi¬ 
tion. And let man remember that if in strength 
of body, in power of intellect, in breadth of thought, 
he is her superior : yet in depth and faithfulness of 
love, in the capability of feeling and enduring, in 
devotedness and fortitude, in moral intuition, woman 
is his superior.” 

Let husbands remember, that their wives are bone 
of their bone and flesh of their flesh, and that he 
who abuses his wife, is in the sight of God, and by 
right, ought to be in the sight of men, a miserable 
coward, a dastardly knave. 

11. It teaches a lesson concerning woman's dan-^ 



36 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ger. What element did the seducing Temptei 
awaken in Eve's soul ? Was it not “ discontent 
with her condition, a desire to have more than her 
allotted portion : to enjoy what was beyond her 
station, to be something more than God made her : 
to know, to pry into what her Father thought best 
to conceal 1" Hence she sinned ; she fell into the 
snare of the devil, and how fearful her fall! We 
weep when we think of that beauty, formed for 
eternal bloom, which so soon began to fade ; of the 
effacement from her soul of the glory of the divine 
image ; of the departure of that innocence and puri-. 
ty which fitted her to be the companion of angels : 
of the incoming of that brood of dismal horrors into 
her capacious soul, and the terrible bitterness of 
that remorse which fastened upon her once joyous 
spirit ! And, does not one of woman’s chief dan¬ 
gers arise now from the same source ? Does not 
uncurbed curiosity lead many a woman to fall an 
easy prey to the same tempter ? Does not the un¬ 
checked desire to be something different from what 
God intended: her desire to rise, not morally, not 
intellectually, but positionally, to get above the 
sphere in which Providence has placed her, to be 
herself the object of admiration and adoration, lead 
her to forget God ; trample on his laws, pervert her 
moral nature, and so occupy her mind with frivolity, 
and her time with frippery, making her whole life 
a horrible failure Oh, woman ! whatever leads 



EVE. 


37 


tliee to forget thy God, to wander from the path of 
duty, how alluring soever it'may seem, how much 
soever it may promise, it is only an ugly devil in a 
beauteous form ! For God is thy best, thy truest 
friend ! His will thy sublimest privilege, thy most 
imperious duty ! His favor is thy surest protection, 
His service thy noblest mission ! Oh, woman ! re¬ 
member that every element within, that leads thee 
away from thy God, is an element of danger ! 
Trust not in thine own strength as Eve did ! Say 
not in scorn of Eve's weakness, that hadst thou been 
her, the temptation of that forbidden tree had been 
resisted, its fruit remained untouched for ever ! By 
that very self-reliant thought. Eve’s sin is developed 
within thee, and thou art as likely as she, to fall 
before the first assault of her wily tempter ! 

III. It teaches a lesson concerning woman^s in¬ 
fluence, God intended she should exert a power¬ 
ful influence in the world. How inconceivably vast 
has been that of the first woman ! In a measure, 
my friends, the same law pertains to you. Are you 
a wife, as Eve was ? Then you are either a bless¬ 
ing or a curse to your husband you either lighten 
his toils or make them heavier ; you make his home 
a heaven or a hell; you make him a better man or 
a worse one ; call out his higher nature or his lower. 
For many a man’s poverty his wife is responsible ; 
for many a man’s dissipation, his wife may blame 
herself And for what many men are, in their high 



38 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


position and lofty character, they are indebted to 
their wives. The treasures of the deep are not so 
precious as are the concealed comforts of a man, 
locked up in woman's love." Are you a mother, as 
Eve was ! Who shall tell the extent of your influ¬ 
ence upon your children ! Are you sisters ? Have 
you brothers ? Your love may shield them, your 
companionship elevate and ennoble them ! 

The merciful God grant that Eve's biography, 
with its lessons on woman's position, woman's dan¬ 
ger, and woman's influence, may be sanctified to 
your permanent good. 



SARAH, 


gtferential ^ife. 


I Peter 3: 6. “Even as Sarah obeyed Abraham—calling him Lord^ 

It is an interesting fact, that in the history of 
the first two thousand years of the world, we find 
the name of no woman prominent after Eve. The 
first female after the ‘^mother of all living,” to 
whom prominence is given, is Sarah, the wife of 
A.hram.” 

There are three facts which invest her biography 
mth interest. One is, her relation to Abraham, 
the first patriarch after the flood—the greatest man 
of his age. We feel, that a woman, whose influence 
over a man like Abraham, possessed of all the ele¬ 
ments of greatness : great in physical might, inso¬ 
much that with his own household he subdued 
kings with their hosts : great in material posses¬ 
sions, great in magnanimity, insomuch that he refused 
the offers of the king of Sodom, and manifested to¬ 
wards Lot more than fraternal generosity : great in 



40 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


the dignity conferred upon him by God and angels : 
great in position—the literal father of a mighty na¬ 
tion, and the spiritual father of all believers in 
Christ, whose descendant he was, according to the 
flesh : and finally, great in his relations to the fu¬ 
ture world, for the Jew called Heaven “ Abraham's 
bosom," and our Saviour, speaking of it, said, 
Many shall come from the east and from the west, 
and shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob;" 
we feel, I say, that a woman who sustained the re¬ 
lation of wife to such a man, and whose influence 
over him was so great, must have possessed a cha¬ 
racter worthy of our attention. 

The second fact is, the honor God conferred upon 
her. Her name originally was Sarai," which 
means my lady," “ my princess ;" but when He 
revealed to Abram that his posterity should be as 
numerous as the stars—that myriad host, the burn¬ 
ing blazonry of heaven—and therefore changed his 
name from Abram," which means “ Prince," to 
Abraham," which means father of many nations," 
He also changed her name to Sarah," which means 
princess of a multitude." The prophet Isaiah 
also makes most honorable mention of her name, in 
connection with that of Abraham—^^Look unto 
Abraham your father, and to Sarah that bare you." 

The third fact is, that if Eve was the literal mo¬ 
ther of the race, Sarah may be regarded as sustain¬ 
ing a similar spiritual relation to it: for through 



SARAH. 


41 


her the Eden promise was fulfilled concerning the 
seed that should bruise the serpent s head. From 
her line came the second Adam, who, on the heights 
of Calvary, met and overcame the fiend-foe, that on 
the plains of Eden, conquered our first parents. 
The apostle Peter, addressing Christian females, 
speaking of Sarah, says, whose daughters ye are.” 
Paul, too, registers her name in the galaxy of those 
who obtained a good report through faith, and who 
compose the great cloud of witnesses, beholding 
from their spheres of light, the progress of Chris¬ 
tians as they run up the path of glory. It can but 
be, that Christian females will be interested in the 
history and character of their spiritual mother, who 
is held up by the Apostle Peter as an example of 
deferential wives. I shall consider. 

Points in the biography of Sarah suggestive of 
practical instruction. 

I. Her Piety. —That she was a pious woman 
there is no doubt. True, she was born and reared 
in the midst of idolatry among the mountains of 
Armenia, in Ur of Chaldea. The name Ur,” 
signifies fire, or light, and the Chaldeans worshipped 
the sun, a form of idolatry most exalted. For, what 
in all nature so nearly resembles the true God as 
that grand orb, whose refulgent beams flood the 
world with light, penetrate it with genial warmth, 
and cover it with beauty. They were not, how- 



42 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ever, an ignorant people, nor unrefined : they cul¬ 
tivated pliilosophy, astronomy, and magic. From 
Sarah's native country, in after years—I mention it 
as an evidence of their cultivation—came Balaam, 
whose fame was so great that Balak thought him 
adequate tb the discomfiture of all Israel. From 
her eastern clime came the Magi, who sought the 
infant Saviour, led by the star of which their pro¬ 
genitor Balaam so grandly spake, and who them¬ 
selves are called wise men from the east." 

Every scholar knows that the Chaldean philoso¬ 
phy was the earliest of philosophies : and to this day, 
numbers its adherents by thousands. It was also 
among Sarah's kindred, and Sarah's people, and 
clearly indicates the extent of their intellectual 
advancement, that many of the names of stellar 
constellations, such as Arcturus, Orion, Pleiades, 
Mazzaroth : names by which they are known in all 
astronomical works, originated and were applied. 

I mention these interesting and not well known 
facts, because I would have you conceive of Sarah 
as she really was, not an uneducated female, but 
one nurtured amid the highest civilization then 
known, a civilization which lacked only one element, 
a knowledge of the true God. It made the mis¬ 
take of regarding the works of God, as God himself 
—it saw not that— 

“ All are but parts of one stupendous whole, 

Whose body, nature is, but God the soul.” 



SARAH. 


43 


Just when, or where, or how a knowledge of the 
true God, came to the Chaldean maiden's mind, we 
do not know ; hut that she did learn, that of which 
hoary philosophers were ignorant, though their ob¬ 
servatories and altars crowned every hill-top that 
girt her childhood's home, we do know. Peradven- 
ture, it was in this wise ; God revealed himself to 
Abram, her half brother, whom He had purposed 
to call out and separate, as the head of a new na¬ 
tion—a mighty people, to whom should he commit¬ 
ted the divine oracles, and through whom He should 
accomplish His gracious purposes concerning the 
race ; and through him she was led to know God, 
and knowing Him, to love Him, and loving Him, to 
serve Him ; for we find her worshipping with her 
husband ; bowing with him around altars consecra¬ 
ted to Jehovah. True, Sarah's piety was not of so 
high a character as that of some other females in 
the Bible ; neither was her faith as strong as that 
of some. This is seen in regard to the promise, 
that she should have a son, who should be the pro¬ 
mised seed. Looking rather at the natural im¬ 
probabilities, than at the power of God, she laughed 
at the announcement. We must remember, how¬ 
ever, that twenty long years elapsed between the 
first announcement and the fulfillment. You may 
be somewhat shocked at the arrangement she pro¬ 
posed with regard to Hagar ; but you must remem¬ 
ber that custom sanctioned it. You must remem- 



44 


EEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ber that you have far greater light than she had ; 
and that in the transaction there was, as a British 
divine has said, “ a magnanimous surrender of her 
own rights, in order to secure the fulfillment of the 
divine promise to her husband, which you can but 
admire.'^ Her great mistake was, just that which 
thousands of both sexes have made, and are making, 
in acting upon the principle that the end justifies 
the means.^^ That her faith was weak, might be 
inferred from the fact that, Abraham did not con¬ 
fide to her the intelligence that God had called him 
to sacrifice Isaac. But you must remember that 
God spared her that trial, for it was to test the 
power of Abraham’s faith, not hers. However this 
may be, though her piety was not what we could 
wish it had been, still the fact stands confessed, that 
according to her light she was a worshipper of the 
true God. For the Scriptures present ample proof 
of this. Her piety and general character were su¬ 
perior to those of any of the other wives of the Patri¬ 
archs. Two apostles, Paul and Peter, bear testi¬ 
mony to her religious character. Paul places her 
amid the galaxy of ancient worthies ; Peter de¬ 
scribes the pious adornment of her spirit. Paul 
records her faithfulness to God ; Peter, her dutiful¬ 
ness to her husband ; Paul writes of her as a be¬ 
liever ; Peter, of her as a well-doer; Paul ex¬ 
hibits her as an example for Christians in general; 



SARAH. 


45 


Peter, as the mother of the daughters who do well. 
She was therefore a worshipper of the true God. 

Can this be said of you, my female friend ? How 
much greater light you have ! Born, not in a 
heathen land, as Sarah was, but in a land upon 
which the full orbed sun of the gospel shines : de¬ 
scended not from heathen parents, as Sarah was, 
nay ! many of you are daughters of pious fathers 
and mothers, who sang the story of a Saviour's love 
over your cradles, and taught you in your girlhooc^ 
to sing sweet hymns of praise to God, to bow in 
prayer, and, folding your little hands, repeat Our 
Father." But do you worshi'p God ^ Have you 
laid your woman's heart, with its beautiful affec¬ 
tions, on the altar of true religion ? 0, women 

ought to be Christians ! Christianity has special 
claims on them—it has been the great element of 
their elevation ! For them not to love God is to 
be guilty of double ingratitude. Oh, sisters ! as 
sinners against God, you personally need an inter¬ 
est in the atoning merit of His dear Son ; in your 
relations you need His aid, to enable you to discharge 
your duties ; amid the trials that await you, you will 
need its consolations ; and in the dark hour of death, 
when you must close your eyes on this bright and 
beautiful world, bid farewell to all you love, oh, 
then you will need—when no other arm can sustain 
you, the support of the arm of Jehovah Jesus ; 
when all other lights shall grow dark, you will need 



46 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


the bright beamings of a Saviour’s smile. Alas ! 
alas ! how many mothers, wives and daughters, are 
living in utter forgetfulness of the God whom Sarah 
worshipped, of Christ, whose feet Mary wet with 
her tears, of the Bible which Eunice and Lois loved, 
of the cause of religion, whose most efficient help¬ 
ers in apostolic days, were holy women ! 

I pause here, and pray to Almighty God, that 
each woman who hears me—mothers, wives, maid¬ 
ens, all, may be led immediately to seek and serve 
the Lord, so that when they shall have departed, it 
may be said of them, as it is said of Sarah—she was 
a worshipper of God. 

II. I ash you to consider the domestic character 
of Sarah. 

Observe here a few biographical facts. In early 
life, she formed a matrimonial connection with 
Abram—the son of her father, but not of her 
mother.” Sometime subsequent to her marriage, 
we read that the entire family, consisting of her 
husband’s father, Terah, his brother Haran, Lot, 
his nephew, and Sarah, his wife, emigrated west¬ 
ward five hundred miles toward the shores of the 
Mediterranean, carrying with them the elements of a 
nation, the germ of a race, whose moral and reli¬ 
gious influence should permeate the world. His¬ 
tory shows that all important emigrations have been 



SARAH. 


47 


westward ; insomuch, that the poetic line of Bishop 
Berkely— 

“ Westward the star of empire takes it way,” 

has become a proverb. Our Pilgrim Fathers sought 
westward an asylum for liberty and religion ; and 
from the eastern part of this continent emigration 
has been, and is, westward evermore. 

The next fact recorded is, that as soon as Sarah 
and her husband’s family reached Palestine, they 
consecrated their new home, by erecting a family 
altar to the true God ; first on the plains of Morah, 
between Mount Ebal and Gerizim, and afterwards 
at memorable Bethel. There the family remained 
until a severe famine was experienced, and then 
they went to Egypt ; thence they returned to Ca¬ 
naan ; there God’s covenant was renewed, and the 
promise of a son given, through whom, all the na¬ 
tions of the earth should be blessed, and Abraham 
obtained splendid victories over his enemies. Years 
passed away; Abraham became immensely rich, 
but he was childless. His feelings with reference 
to this fact may be gathered from these words, 
which he uttered to Jehovah: ‘^Lord God, what 
wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless—behold, 
thou hast given me no seed, and lo ! one born in 
my house is my heir.” That this loas a matter of 
regret to Sarah there is no doubt; but we do not 
hear of hei complaining. Then occurred the trail- 



48 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


saction with Hagar—Ishmael was born. During 
twelve years, both Abraham and Sarah supposed 
that he was the heir according to the promise. But 
at this period God announced that His promise— 
that Sarah should have a son—should soon be ful¬ 
filled. Sarah, though not in the apartment where 
the angels were entertained—for eastern custom 
forbade her presence there, still heard the announce¬ 
ment, and laughed ; so improbable did it seem to 
her ; therefore, when a son was born, his name was 
called Isaac,'' which signifies laughter." Sub¬ 
sequently Sodom was destroyed—they visited the 
country of the Philistines—Isaac was born—years 
passed away, until at the advanced age of one hun¬ 
dred and twenty-seven years, she closed her eyes in 
death. Such is a meagre outline of the domestic 
history of the family ; and if you will take pains to 
study the Scripture filling up, you will be impressed 
with two features of her domestic life. 

First. Her love and deferential respect for her 
husband. 

I beg you to observe this characteristic feature 
all through her life, from the moment she gave him 
her maiden hand and heart, at Ur of Chaldea, until 
she died. She was not only a faithful helpmeet, 
going with him where he went, sharing his fortunes, 
prudently caring for his temporal interests, but ever 
exhibited towards him the most loving respeet. Ke- 
becca deceived Isaac, Sarah never deceived Abra- 



SARAH. 


49 


ham. When she would send Hagar and Ishmael 
away, the probability was, that it would be dis¬ 
pleasing to Abraham. Had she been like some 
women, she might hav^ managed to gain her point, 
and yet, evaded the probable displeasure : but she 
had too much respect for her husband—high-minded 
woman that she was—pure-minded wife that she 
was—to be guilty of such conduct. Therefore she 
went with her purpose to him first, and this plain 
evidence of confidence in, and respect for him, 
doubtless did much towards obtaining his approba¬ 
tion. 

This trait in Sarah's character is held up in the 
Bible as a model for wives : Likewise ye wives be in 
subjection to your own husbands ; that if any obey 
not the word, the;^ also may without the word be 
won by the conversations of the wives : even as 
Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord: whose 
daughters ye are as long as ye do well, and are not 
afraid with any amazement." I speak advisedly 
when I say, that I admit that there are husbands, 
who are so mean, degraded, and villainous, as to 
make it impossible that their wives should respect 
them. In regard to such I have nothing to urge 
I sympathize with the old lady, who, when told that 
the Bible says that husbands are the heads of their 
wives," replied, Wei], all I have to say is, that 
some poor souls have miseralle heads." Such form 
an exception to the general rule. But what is the 
3 



50 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Bible rule ? ‘‘ Wives, submit yourselves unto your 
own husbands, as unto the Lord.'" ‘^Let the wife 
see that she reverence her husband.'' Paul says to 
the Corinthians, I would have you know that the 
head of every man is Christ ; and the head of the 
woman is the man : and the head of Christ is God." 

Am I mistaken in supposing that one tendency 
of our times is, to make wives unlike Sarah in this 
respect—to make them suspicious and jealous of 
their husband's position in regard to them : to make 
them set up in their own minds a false indepen¬ 
dence ; and forget that wife and husband are one— 
that her husband's interests are her own ? Am I 
mistaken in supposing that very many wives neglect 
to cultivate and exhibit that loving deference, and 
affectionate respect towards their companions, which 
is their due—not because they are rich or poor, 
learned or unlearned, high or low in position, but 
because they are their husbands, and this, a duty 
arising out of the marriage covenant ? Now, two 
things are essential to any husband's being what he 
ought to be. One is, that he respect himself. He 
who does not respect himself, will not command the 
respect of others. The other is, consciousness of 
his wife’s respect. Would you have your husband 
enjoy the respect of others ? Let him know, and 
let them see, that his wife respects him as Sarah 
respected Abraham. This very thing, which to you 
may seem unimportant, and reference to which, per- 



SARAH. 


51 


chance, may excite a smile on your face, every hus¬ 
band before me knows to be important—knows, that 
a consciousness that he is respected by his own wife, 
will cause him to respect himself; nerve him to be¬ 
come more and more worthy of that respect. Many 
a man, perhaps your own husband, is made misera¬ 
ble by evidence that the being more closely allied to 
him than any on earth, respects others more than 
himself; cares more for the society of others than 
for his ; shows greater deference to the opinions of 
others than to his. 

Such women are unwise. They are not help¬ 
meets ; they discourage where they should en¬ 
courage ; they make that home gloomy, which their 
glad, approving smile should fill with sunlight ; 
they fail as Sarah did not, to discharge their full 
duty to those who chose them to be their bosom 
companions, and to whom they vowed before the 
sacred altars of Grod, that they would be all that 
wives ought to be. 

* Closer, closer let us knit 

Hearts and hands together; 

Where our fireside comforts sit, 

In the wildest weather; 

0, they wander wide who roam 
For the joys of life, from home,” 

I beg you to study the domestic character of 
Sarah, as a model in this respect; it will aid you 
to mould your own characters as wives, and thereby 



52 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


obey the command of Inspiration recorded in 1 
Peter 3 : 1, 2, 6. 

The second leading feature of her domestic cha¬ 
racter IS, her watchcare over her son. 

There are two reasons on account of which, we 
may suppose, Isaac to have been peculiarly dear to 
Sarah. One is, the fact that he was her only son, 
indeed, her only child, and emphatically the child 
of her old age. All the strong feelings of her wo¬ 
manly and maternal nature centered upon him, as 
her only offspring. Those mothers here to-day, 
who have an only child, can sympathize with the 
feelings of Sarah in regard to Isaac. The other is, 
the fact which Sarah knew—that God had desig¬ 
nated him as the seed, and through which all the 
families of the earth should be blessed. ^ 

But now observe the developments of Sarah's love 
for her boy. She kept him from the evil influence 
of a had associate. Eemember, that the Egyptian 
Hagar and her son Ishmael, were yet with them. 
Sarah saw Ishmael mocking"—Paul says, per¬ 
secuting Isaac." Ishmael was a wild, rude, ungodly 
youth, thirteen years older than Isaac. God said 
of him, that “ his hand should be against every 
man, and every man against him." From him de¬ 
scended the Arabs—those wild robbers of the de¬ 
sert ; and amongst us, when we see a man intensely 
selfish, arraying himself in opposition to the interests 
of others, we call him “a perfect Ishmaelite." 



SARAH. 


53 


Now Sarah saw that this mocking, persecuting, 
wicked Ishmael would corrupt her hoy ; therefore 
she determined to separate them : knowing that 
there was far more danger of Ishmael ruining Isaac, 
than probability of Isaac reforming Ishmael. The 
decision of her clear, strong judgment was, that one 
must he saved, rather than risk both ; and that 
womanly decision to guard her son from the con¬ 
tamination of a wicked associate, met with the ap¬ 
probation of her God. 0, mothers ! this trait in 
Sarah’s domestic character, is suggestive of instruc¬ 
tion to you. You love your children ; God and 
you only know how much ; they are dear to you as 
the life-drops of your heart. But does your love 
for your sons take the practical form, that Sarah’s 
did ? Are you careful to guard them from the per¬ 
nicious influence of had associates ? One corrupt 
hoy like Ishmael, associating with your boy, can 
counteract your influence, undermine his virtue, 
lead him astray, and thus blast your fond hopes, 
and bring you down in sorrow to your grave. 

In after years, when Isaac, reaching a pure and 
noble manhood, looking back, saw the peril to which 
his boyhood had been exposed—think ye not, he 
thanked from his inmost heart, that fond but Arm, 
loving yet decided mother—whose watchfulness saw 
that peril, and whose independence saved him from 
it ? 0, mothers ! I beg you, by all the love you 

beai your sons, by all the hopes that you have 



54 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


wreathed around them, h}^ your regard to your own 
future happiness and peace, to lose no time in dili¬ 
gently enquiring whether there are not mocking, 
persecuting young Ishmaels among their associates ; 
and if you find that there are, withdraw your sons 
from their infiuence, as Sarah did hers, before it 
shall be too late. I am satisfied that as parents, we 
are not watchful enough on this point. Our chil¬ 
dren must have associates, but it is our duty to see 
that those associates are not Ishmaels. It is a 
mournful truth, that young Ishmaels abound in this 
age, which is characterized by a strange perversion 
of that Scripture which says, Parents, train up 
your children whereas, as it has been truly said, 

too many children train their parents."*’ 

III. The last point in this biography, to which I 
have time to refer, suggestive of practical instruc¬ 
tion to her sex, is one which ought particularly to 
interest younger females. It is Sarah’s true esti¬ 
mate of personal heauty. 

She was unquestionably a beautiful woman ; to 
this day the country where Sarah was born, is famed 
for the beauty of its females ; for I suppose you 
know, that the modern Circassia, which supplies 
the slave market at Constantinople with its beauti¬ 
ful female slaves, is the same as ancient Armenia. 
Circassian is world-famed, as the highest type of 
physical beauty ; and if you have read the record 
with care, you have observed, how often Sarah is 




SARAH. 


55 


represented as being fair—very fair.” Hers, too, 
was not of an ephemeral character ; hence, we find 
that at the age of sixty-five, when what beauty wo¬ 
men have had, has, ordinarily, long since faded-—as 
this noble pair journey into Egypt, we hear Abra¬ 
ham saying to Sarah—Behold, I know that thou 
art a fair woman to look upon and for fear of dan¬ 
ger to himself, on her account, he stooped to pre¬ 
varication : telling her to say, thou art my sis¬ 
ter which in one sense was true, but in the sense 
he intended, it was a falsehood. 

Having entered Egypt, we find the Egyptians 
saying—this woman is very fair and her exceed¬ 
ing beauty fascinated even the royal Pharaoh. 
Then, again, when she was ninety years old, and 
had gone with her husband into Philistia, such was 
still her personal appearance, that Abraham feared 
for his life, and again prevaricated, in a manner un¬ 
worthy of him. There, without an effort on her 
part, her beauty fascinated the king Abimelek— 
thus kings acknowledged the magnificence of Sarah's 
queenly beauty. 

But what I ask you to consider, is Sarah's jorac-- 
tical estimate of her personal appearance—the ef¬ 
fect her conscious beauty had upon her. As a 
general fact, the beautiful woman is a proud woman, 
a vain woman, an extravagant woman ; oftentimes 
impoverishing her husband by her lavish expendi¬ 
tures ; in her infatuation, not remembering that 



56 


REPKESEKTATIVE WOMEN, 


noble truth, trite though it be, that beauty un¬ 
adorned is adorned the most and therefore al¬ 
lows vanity and selfishness to run riot with her bet¬ 
ter nature ; strives for general admiration ; is hap¬ 
py only when surrounded by the incense of multi 
tudes, which bewildering, intoxicating aroma ren¬ 
ders her neglectful of plain every-day duties, inso - 
much that beauty oftentimes becomes a curse, when 
it is bestowed, and should be received only as a 
blessing. 

But consider Sarah in her resplendant loveliness, 
and you see no such false estimate of its real worth, 
no such baneful effect upon her character. It was 
enough for her, that she was beautiful in the eyes 
of those whom she loved, and who loved her. You 
see no vanity, no artificial airs, no effort at display, 
no foolish pride, but you see a modest, gentle, re¬ 
tiring, loving woman, presiding with bland dignity 
over her numerous household. 

Beauty any where is a gift of God, and not to be 
despised. But remember that physical beauty is 
the lowest form, yet it seems most highly, and 
therefore falsely prized. But there is beauty in 
mind, cultivated and enriched by knowledge ; there 
is beauty in disposition, gentle, confiding ; there is 
beauty in expression, which sometimes makes the 
plainest features surpassingly lovely; there is beiiuty 
in graceful, modest manners ; and there is beauty 
in a good life, a useful life : all of which as far sur- 



SARAH. 


57 


pass mere beauty of complexion, feature or form, as 
the diamond surpasses the paste. And never for¬ 
get, that in the sight of God a meek and quiet 
spirit ” is of great price ; that the spirit of experi¬ 
mental Christianity, which brings out into higher 
development every element of female loveliness, and 
throws over the entire character its sweetest grace, 
is its truest charm. 

“ For Tieauty alone ne’er conferred 
Such a charm as religion has lent, 

And the cheek of a belle never glowed 
With a smile like the smile of content.” 

Indeed, the influence of the service of God, ex¬ 
panding the intellect, purifying and directing the 
moral nature, leading to all the sweet charities of 
benevolence, flings a halo of glory around wo¬ 
manhood now, and will gem her with immortal 
beauty, in the better world. Well has it been 
said— 

“ What is woman, what her smile, 

Her look of love, her eyes of light 1 
What is she if she in her heart deride 
The blessed Saviour I Love may write his 
Name upon her marble brow. 

Or linger in her curls of jet, 

The light spring flower may scarcely bend 
Beneath her step; and yet, and yet, 

Without this choicest grace. 

She is a lighter thing than vanity.” 

I notice in conclusion, the circumstances connected 
with her death. In mercy, her life was lengthened 

out, an hundred and twenty-seven years. What 

S'* 



58 


EEPKESENTATI'V E WOMEN. 


a ripe old age ! And if she retained, as we have 
seen, enough of beauty at the age of ninety, to at¬ 
tract the admiration of a Mng, it is reasonable to 
suppose, that her mature matronhood was blessed 
with health and happiness. She lived to see her 
son—her Isaac, a pious, noble man. She lived to 
see how wrong she had done, in distrusting the pro¬ 
mise of a covenant-fulfilling God, and have her own 
piety deepened by experience, until after a century 
and quarter had passed by her, she stood on the 
earthly harvest field, like a shock of corn fully ripe 
unto the harvest. If her day at times had been 
dark, at evening time it was light. Chastened by 
discipline, and strengthened by trial, she was made 
meet for the heavenly inheritance. Her work was 
done. Her last hour came. Her husband was 
away from home—he saw not her dying glance—he 
heard not her dying words. This may have caused 
the gathering shades to assume for a moment a 
darker hue, but the glory beyond, bursting forth out of 
an opening heaven, changed them all to brightness, 
while through them she saw the angel of the cove¬ 
nant waiting to receive her, and angel bands ready 
to sing the “ welcome home.'' At Kirjatharba, in 
the lovely vale of Hebron, her cherished home. 
Death came to her, as a dark-robed messenger with 
soft and quiet tread, and calmly trusting in her 
God, she ascended from that earthly to the heaven¬ 
ly Canaan, that deathless clime, where— 



8AKAH. 


59 


“ The soul, of origin divine, 

God’s glorious image, freed from clay. 

In heaven’s eternal sphere shall shine, 

A star of day!” 

Her funeral is the first one, on the record of the 
world's history. Her devoted husband, hearing the 
sad intelligence, hastened home, and bedewed her 
cold remains with his tears : while Isaac, now mo¬ 
therless, wept as every son ought to weep, who 
loses a mother, for who can love us as our mother ; 
who can feel for us, as she who bore us ? Of the 
children of Heth, Abraham bought the cave of Mac- 
pelah, and there amid its sepulchral silence and 
gloom, he laid the remains of his noble, devoted 
Sarah, who from early maidenhood to old age, had 
been true to him ; his pious, deferential, loving 
wife ; whose beauty had been the ornament of his 
tent: whose piety had strengthened his faith: 
whose sweet companionship had cheered his weary 
wanderings : whose cheerful cooperation had light¬ 
ened his toils, and whose angel presence had been 
the sun of his life. We may conceive of him as ex¬ 
claiming, when he took his farewell of her corpse— 

“ Calm on the bosom of thy God, 

Fair spirit! rest thee now; 

Even while with us thy footsteps trod, 

His seal was on thy brow. 

Dust to its narrow house beneath. 

Soul to its place on high ! 

They that have seen thy look in death. 

No more may fear to die,” 



60 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Now, my friend, let me urge you to rem. /» ’ 
and imitate Tier piety, her loving respect fa I er 
Tiushand, her ivatchcare over her son, her wor\ijtd^ 
and pious estimate of what the world esteems so 
highly. And as she was prepared for the great 
change—the change of worlds—so may’st thou— 

“ Sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.*’ 



REBECCA, 


P^aitHging ®flnian. 


Gen. 27: 13. Upon me he thy curse my son.” 

Fidelity to truth is a characteristic of the Bible ; 
especially is this so of its biographies. In the record 
of the lives of even prominent religious men and 
women, we have faithfully detailed not only their 
excellencies but their deficiencies ; not only their 
virtuous hut vicious conduct; not only their strong 
and praiseworthy traits of character, hut also their 
weak and blameworthy ones. You can hut feel, as 
you read these records, that they are true to nature 
■—true to human nature—true to what you know 
by your own experience and observation, fallen hu¬ 
man nature to be. You read of heroic men, philan¬ 
thropic men, pious men ; you read of many good 
women, noble women, pious women, but each and 
all of them you find to have possessed the infirmi¬ 
ties of fallen humanity ; and the divine records of 
all other characters plainly show them to have been 



62 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


just such creatures as ourselves. I beg ;^ou here¬ 
after, in your reading of this book, to observe how 
clearly Shakspeare’s language applies to its descrip¬ 
tion of human nature ; for you will find nothing 
extenuate, nor aught set down in malice,'^ but 
faithful portraitures of all their shadows as well as 
lights. Before this lecture closes, you will see some 
fearful traits of character developed ; but let your 
minds be prepared to properly appreciate the stern 
truthfulness of the book of Grod, which publishes to 
the race the errors and sins of His own people. 
Fidelity is a trait in the character of God himself, 
as well as of His book, and is required of all those 
who profess to be His servants, and especially of 
His ministers. 

It has been suggested to me by a kind friend, that 
some of my remarks on defects in female character, 
in this course of lectures, may have already, or pro¬ 
bably will give offence to some ladies in my audi¬ 
ence. It is a matter of regret to any gentleman to 
give offence to a lady : but I am sure that no true 
woman can be offended with faithfulness in the dis¬ 
section of female character and conduct : nay, I am 
sure that they would be disgusted and justly offended 
if they detected me trying to pamper their pride, 
minister to their vanity, or press to their lips the 
poisoned chalice of flattery. True women love tc 
hear the truth ; they know the wisdom of the wise 
man, when he said—Faithful are the wounds of 



REBECCA. 


63 


a friend.'' Whether I am their friend or not, my 
private and official life must show. I would have these 
lectures judged by this test—Are they true ? are 
they faithful ? If an affirmative verdict is given to 
these questions, I can calmly leave the results with 
you, and Him whose I am and whom I serve. 

Rebecca, who was she ? We are first introduced 
to her in Mesopotamia, which was part of ancient 
Syria, but is now embraced in modern Persia. It 
was the native country of Sarah and Abraham. She 
is introduced to us as a girl, of remarkable beauty 
and maidenly purity. Her father Bethuel, was the 
son of Nahor, and therefore Abraham's nephew. 
She was living with her mother, whose eldest son, 
Laban, according to the Jewish law of primogeni¬ 
ture, was, after the decease of the father, the head 
of the family. She was an only daughter, the ob¬ 
ject of her mother's love, and her brethren's pride. 
In the bosom of that family, she was blooming iqto 
womanhood, as a beautiful rose, of fairest hue and 
sweetest fragrance in some select garden, blooms 
into beautiful maturity. But in all the visions of 
the future, which her girlish imagination wreathes 
with rainbows ; in all her sweet dreams, she has no 
true conception of the dignity which awaits her ; 
or the darkness which will envelope her last days. 
Gentle and loving, artless and unambitious, prudent 
and industrious, she is useful to her family, as well 
as the object of concentrated maternal and fraternal 



64 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


I must now change the scene. Five hundred 
miles westward, in the land of Canaan, in a richly 
decorated and furnished tent, sits an an aged Patri¬ 
arch. You saw him in our last lecture, in the 
strength of his manhood, a hero warrior : a man of 
wealth, a happy husband, a disconsolate widower, 
weeping amid the silence and gloom of Macpelah’s 
cave. Now he is old and well stricken in years,'' 
his cheek is furrowed, his eye is dim, his hair is grey, 
and falls in wavy folds upon his venerable shoulders 
Full well he knows that his body must soon sleep in 
death, in the place he has already selected for it, 
beside the mouldering remains of his beloved Sarah. 

Through the open door, beneath the shadows of 
primeval trees, he sees his son Isaac walking alone, 
wrapt in meditation. Isaac is now forty years old, 
a calm, meditative man. Before the Patriarch sleeps 
in death, he would see that son settled in life, mar¬ 
ried. All around him are idolaters, and with any 
of them he would not have his son form a matrimo¬ 
nial connection. Suddenly, thoughts of his distant 
early home come to his mind. He has never visit¬ 
ed it, since he emigrated with his young wife. Full 
sixty years have passed away since then, and he had 
heard perchance only by a passing traveller of his 
kindred at home : of Nahor's family. His purpose 
is formed ; Isaac's wife shall come from where he 
found his Sarah. But how shall this be effected ? 
Mesopotamia is five hundred miles eastward—there 



KEBECCA. 


65 


are no railroads, no telegraphic wires. He settles 
upon his plan : he has a servant whom he can trust. 
Eliezer is called—the charge is given ; he is made 
to swear before God that he will fulfill it. The 
servant states hut pne objection, and that relates 
not to the weary journey to be performed on camebs 
back, he would goto the ends of the earth to serve ^ 
his noble master : but with characteristic fore¬ 
thought he indicates it thus : Peradventure the 
woman will not follow me but Abraham's clear, 
strong faith answers—The Lord God of heaven, 
which took me from my father's house, and from 
the land of my kindred, and which spake unto me, 
and that sware unto me, saying. Unto thy seed will 
I give this land ; He shall send His angel before 
thee, and thou shalt take a wife unto my son from 
thence. And if the woman will not be willing to 
follow thee, then thou shalt be clear from this my 
oath." Eliezer is satisfied : and taking a train of 
ten camels, and also elegant jewelry, he departs 
eastward, and journeys until he reaches Mesopo¬ 
tamia, the birth-place of his master. 

It is sunset on the Mesopotamian plains ; Eliezer 
arrives at the city of Nahor, and stops at a well out¬ 
side the city. The surrounding hills begin to throw 
their long shadows over the inter-vale : and while 
the softened glory of an oriental evening bathes the 
scene, the women come from the city to draw wa¬ 
ter. Now the noble old servant looks to the God 




66 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


of Abraham for aid : he knows no one in that strange 
land ; how shall he know who of the many maidens 
is to he Isaac’s bride ! In earnest tones he prays— 
0 Lord Grod of my master Abraham, I pray thee, 
send me good speed this day let her whom I shall 
designate, be she that thou hast appointed for thy 
servant Isaac, and thereby shall I know that thou 
hast shewed kindness unto my master.” And lo ! 
before he has done praying, a maiden, fairer than 
any he has yet seen, comes forth in ancient sim¬ 
plicity, bearing her pitcher on her shoulder. She 
approaches the well and observes a strange cavalcade 
there, but her maidenly modesty permits her only 
to glance at it as she stoops to the water, like a 
white swan bending to the glassy wave.” But as 
she arises erect, and places the pitcher on her fair 
shoulder, where soft curls float lovingly from her 
pure brow, she stands before the admiring Eliezer 
in the fading light, the very impersonation of virgin 
loveliness. He hastens to her side, and with bland 
courtesy says—Let me, I pray thee, drink a little 
water of thy pitcher.” With the native politeness 
of a true lady, she says, handing him the pitcher, 
Drink, my lord ;” and while he drinks, she ob¬ 
serves the thirsty camels : perceives that they are 
weary with travel, her tender heart is touched for 
them, brutes though they are, and she says, I 
will draw water for thy camels also.” The wonder¬ 
ing Eliezer now asks—Whose daughter art thou ? 



REBECCA. 


67 


Tell me, I pray tliee, is there room at thy father's 
house for us to lodge in ?” Quickly she replies—I 
am the daughter of Bethuel, the son of Milcah, 
which she hare unto Nahorand adds with genuine 
hospitality, ^^We have both straw and provender 
enough, and room to lodge in." And after having 
received a gift, she runs homeward to communicate 
the intelligence, while the aged servant of Abraham 
and of Grod, hows in the gathering gloom and wor¬ 
ships, exclaiming, “ Blessed he the Lord Grod of 
my master Abraham, who hath not left destitute 
my master of His mercy and His truth ; I being in 
the way, the Lord led me to the house of my mas¬ 
ter's brethren." 

Soon her brother Laban arrives at the well, and 
says to Eliezer, Come in, thou blessed of the 
Lord ; wherefore standest thou without ? for I have 
prepared the house and room for the camels." The 
invitation is accepted—all is arranged for the night 
—but Eliezer will not even eat until he has told his 
errand. Wonderingly the family listen to this 
strange story. Kebecca's heart beats more wildly 
than ever before, as the servant thus urges decision 
this very night; And now if you will deal kindly 
and truly with my master, tell me, and if not, tell 
me : that I may turn to the right hand or to the 
left." Laban and Bethuel reply—'' the thing pro- 
ceedeth from the Lord ] we cannot speak unto thee 
bad or good. Behold, Kebecca is before thee, take 



68 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


her.'' And when Eliezer hears these words, he 
again bows and worships Jehovah. All now re¬ 
tire for the night; Eliezer weary with travel and 
joyful with success, falls asleep : hut tell me, maid¬ 
ens, think you that young Behecca slept that night! 

Early in the morning the household is astir—Eli¬ 
ezer says, Send me away to my master"—they be¬ 
seech him to tarry a few days, he refuses, and with 
joyful dignity, says, Hinder me not, seeing the 
Lord hath prospered my way : send me away that I 
may go to my master." The decision is left with 
Kehecca—her brothers ask, Wilt thou go with this 

man On her reply to that question hangs her 
life destiny—hut she is prepared to answer—all 
through the stilly watches of the past night, she has 
thought of nothing else—her mind is made up, her 
decision is formed, and like a true-hearted maiden, 
whose life choice is made, with no foolish coquetry, 
but while the roses of her cheeks deepen their rich 
hues, and the long lashes obscure the brightness of 
her downcast eyes, with womanly dignity she says, 
I will go." And on that same day, taking her old 
nurse Deborah, and her damsels, she went with him. 
We have no record of that long journey. But at 
its close we are told, that as they approached Abra¬ 
ham’s home, the calm, meditative Isaac, from his 
field walk saw the returning train. Eebecca, too, 
saw him, and asked, What man is that, that 
walketh in the field to meet us ?" Eliezer replied, 



REBECCA. 


69 


Ifc is Isaac.'' Women only know, how that bloom- 
ing, Syrian maid’s heart fluttered as she saw, for 
the first time, the man who was to be her husband. 
With dignified modesty she covered herself with her 
veil, and awaited the salutations of her betrothed : 
joyfully he received her, and taking her into the 
tent his mother had occupied, she became his 
wife, and he loved her." Thus endeth the maiden 
life of Kebecca. But I cannot leave this beautiful 
narrative, without picking out a few of the gold 
threads of doctrine and instruction, which run 
through it. 

1. Think of the implicitness of Abraham's faith. 
It had grown with his growth : it had passed the 
fiery ordeal of Moriah's sacrifice, until in his old age, 
it was the strongest element of his nature. Hence 
when Eliezer interposed an objection to his plan, he 
told him how the Lord had ever been with him, 
ever kept him, and why he should not doubt now 
in his old age, the God of his youth and manhood. 
With this example of implicit faith, before us, 0, 
believers, join with me in the prayer, Lord, in¬ 
crease our faith !" By such faith we put our frail 
hands within the loving hand of the Almighty 
Father. By such faith we please God, and become 
heirs according to the promise. 

2. Think of the appropriateness of prayer in 
exigencies, Eliezer was not only a faithful servant, 
but a shrewd man. The picture of him and his 



70 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


weary camels in the dusk of evening, at the city 
well-side, is a fine one; but its richest point is 
where you see him, having done all that shrewdness 
could suggest, meekly folding his hands and bowing 
his head in prayer, to the God of Abraham. He 
had reached an exigency : and you feel that, as a 
man who believed in God as a Hearer of prayer, and 
a Helper in time of need, no exercise could have 
been more appropriate. 0, ye who profess to be a 
praying people, never forget that our God does hear 
prayer: that He loves to listen to the cry of His 
feeble ones for help ; His bewildered ones for guid¬ 
ance. Hoes He hear the young ravens, when in their 
loneliness and desolation they cry to Him in their 
poor nest-home ? and will He not hear the cry of 
His own, loved, chosen people ! Verily, I say unto 
you, that He who heard Eliezer, and answered his 
req[uest, will hear and answer ours : 

“ There are God and peace above thee : 

Wilt thou languish in despair'! 

Tread thy griefs beneath thy feet, 

Scale the walls of heaven by prayer.” 

In all thy ways acknowledge him, and He shall 
direct thy steps.’^ 

3. Think of the importance, that sometimes 
gathers around a few hours of human life. One 
day a Syrian maiden is quietly pursuing her accus¬ 
tomed duties, in her home, at the city of Nahor. 
In the evening, as is her wont, she goes to get 



REBECCA, 


71 


water at the customary place. How little she 
dreams as she wends her way to that well, perchance 
warbling some air of her native land, that she is ap¬ 
proaching her life-crisis : and while the soft breezes 
from the far-reaching plains of Padan-Aram are 
fanning her cheeks, as she trips along, she knows 
not that a stranger is praying at the well, and that 
God is listening there : she knows not, that as she 
moves along, God’s unseen hand is touching the 
springs of great and sublime events, and moving 
the keys of untold destinies.” The morrow’s 
evening sees her the betrothed wife of Isaac—on 
her way from her native to her new home : sees her 
a link in the golden chain which shall reach to 
the Messiah.” Thus, sometimes, the destinies of a 
life-time are crowded into an hour—thus, some¬ 
times, our life crisis come upon us unawares. God 
help us to be ready for them—and to pray, that as 
the shadowy hour draws nearer, 

“ God may irradiate and purify 
The spirit’s inmost vision.” * * * * * 

4. Think of the clearness of the illustration here 
presented, of the doctrine of an overruling Provi- 
dence. In these scenes, free moral agents figure 
freely. Abraham acts with all his wisdom : Eliezer 
acts with all his shrewdness : Laban acts with all his 
prudence : Eehecca acts in all her purity—freely, 
just as she thinks best; and yet, through their 



72 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


voluntary actings, and by means of circumstances 
apparently fortuitous, an overruling Grod develops 
his own eternal purposes, and carries forward His 
great plans of mercy. Thus he worketh still : thus 

“ The great directing Mind of all ordains.” 

And all we need, in order to see Him every where 
and in all events, whether they pertain to us indi¬ 
vidually, or to our families, or to the community in 
which we live, or to our nation, or our world ; 
whether these events be adverse or prosperous, joy¬ 
ous or grievous : all, I say, that we need, in order 
to see Him thus, is a heart in sympathy with Him, 
a mind instructed by Him, and an eye illuminated 
by His grace. 

5. Think of the example of courtesy and polite¬ 
ness here presented. Had Kebecca been a modern 
belle, when the stranger at the well asked her for 
drink out of her pitcher, she would have turned 
coldly away from him, if she had not refused his 
request with haughtiness. Indeed, had she been 
such an one, she had never gone to the well at all, 
but had ordered a servant to bring water for her. 
But in her fresh loveliness, and beautiful simplicity, 
though she had damsels of her own, Kebecca waited 
upon herself, and with genuine politeness, cour¬ 
teously responded to the stranger’s request, and sup¬ 
plied the stranger’s need. It has been said, that 
limerican females are less polite towards strangers 



REBECCA. 


73 


than those of Europe. I very much dislike to he- . 
lieve this ; hut when in railroad cars, I have seen a 
gentleman give up his seat to a lady, and take a 
standee himself, for many a weary mile, and that 
lady not acknowledge the politeness hy a word or a 
how, hut take it as a matter of right, and some 
other such scenes : I have heen afraid there was 
some truth in the charge. Let the example of Ke- 
hecca at the well show the young females of Ameri¬ 
ca, that gentle courtesy and politeness, even toward 
strangers, is not incompatible with maidenly mo¬ 
desty, hut throws over it one of its sweetest charms. 

“ The stranger’s heart! oh ! wound it not! 

A yearning anguish is its lot.” 

A kind word, a kind act either to a friend or 
stranger, may seem a small thing to a selfish world ; 
hut Jesus said, He that giveth a cup of cold wa¬ 
ter to a disciple in the name of a disciple, shall not 
lose his reward.” Why did our Father cause flowers 
to hloom over so large a portion of the earth ? They 
are not food, they give no shelter, they furnish no 
clothing, they are of no absolute use, in the common 
meaning of the term. Wherefore then did the earth 
hy this command bring forth flowers ? To beautify 
it! to enliven it ! to fling a gladness and bright-, 
ness over the world ! What flowers are to earth- 
acts of kindness, of courtesy, of hospitality, are to 
men. How often a gentle tone, a kind look, an act 



74 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


of unostentatious politeness, a generous hospitality, 
has filled a care-worn soul with peace, a stricken 
heart with joy, a smitten spirit with gladness. 

“ Tliou think’st it sweet, when friend with friend 
Beneath one roof in pray^ may blend; 

Then doth the stranger’s eye grow dim— 

Far, far, are those who prayed with him. 

Thy hearth, thy home, thy vintage land : 

The voices of thy kindred band; 

Oh! ’midst them all, when blest thou art. 

Deal gently with the stranger’s heart.” 

The married life of Kehecca now claims our at¬ 
tention. I will first group together the biographical 
facts. Isaac and Kehecca passed twenty years in 
unbroken domestic peace. Their wealth increased 
greatly. Abraham lived with them until he died, 
in the one hundred and seventy-fifth year of his age. 

^ At the expiration of twenty years, two children 
were born unto Isaac : both were boys ; to the elder 
they gave the name of Esau, to the younger, that of 
Jacob. Each of these, God foretold, should be the 
head of a mighty nation ; from Esau descended the 
powerful nation of the Edomites, from Jacob the 
twelve tribes of Israel. The boys grew to manhood. 
Esau was a hunter, a man of the field; Jacob a 
plain man, dwelling in tents. The birth-right was 
in Esau. By a shrewd manoeuvre, Jacob obtained 
it from him. Afterward the family sojourned in 
Gerar. The covenant made before with Abraham 
was confii'med to Isaac, who became an old man and 



EEBECCA. 


75 


lost his sight. A cruel deception on the part of 
Eebecca and Jacob, embittered the last days of the 
patriarch, broke up the family, and the sun of Ee- 
becca’s life set in clouds and darkness. The picture 
I must now draw of her married life, is so unlike 
that I have presented of her maiden life, that I 
shrink from it. That was light, this must be dark. 
But although less pleasant, it may be more profit¬ 
able. 

The first error she committed, was to indulge in 
‘partiality toward one of her sons, Jacob. True, her 
husband was guilty of a similar partiality to Esau ; 
true, Jacob was a handsomer boy than his brother ; 
true, God had said, that the elder should serve the 
younger. But all this was no justification for her 
partiality. Esau was equally her son, with Jacob, 
although he was not so good-looldng as his younger 
brother, and that partiality, unjustifiable on any 
principles, was the origin of all their family troubles. 
Such partiality, in any family, always works mis¬ 
chief ; and yet, how often it is allowed. How many 
mothers, instead of bestowing their affections and 
attentions on all their children alike, lavish them 
on one, and that one the very child who needs them 
least. It is almost «'*^ays the hantlsoTriftst one. 
Such partiality always engenders pride in ob¬ 
ject, and jealousy and hatred among the other chil¬ 
dren. Esau early learned to hate Jacob : just be¬ 
cause his mother showed lim such parliaHiy’: 0 



76 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


parents, if we are ever partial in our affections to¬ 
ward our children, let it be toward the weak one, 
the homely one, the feeble one. Then it may be 
excusable : then the other children will not be in¬ 
jured by it. But rest assured that in any other 
case, partiality will damage those to whom it is 
shown—will sow seeds of bitterness in your fami¬ 
ly, whose upspringings will over-shadow your 
household and fill it with troublous gloom. It af¬ 
fected permanently the character of Jacob, and made 
Esau, who was constitutionally generous, what, per¬ 
chance, he otherwise never would have been. 

The second had trait of character she developed, 
was presumption in reference to the promise of Grod. 
Kemember God had promised that the elder should 
serve the younger’"—over that promise her maternal 
heart gloated. She did right in remembering it; 
she did wrong in putting her own interpretation 
upon it ; an interpretation warranted neither by 
the letter nor the spirit of the promise. But in her 
hasty partiality, she did not stop to consider whether 
her interpretation was the true one, or not. We 
know that she entirely misapprehended the promise, 
for subsequent history is its interpreter, and shews 
us its designed fulfillment in the descendants of her 
sons: those of Esau became the bondsmen of the 
descendants of Jacob. The divine promise, there¬ 
fore, had relation not to them personally, but to 
+heir posterity ; and her conduct consequently could 



REBECCA. 


77 


not, noi did not effect its ultimate fulfillment: 
although she construed it to suit her own purposes. 
She was letermined Jacob should rule over Esau in 
all things—she presumed to tamper with the pro¬ 
mise, and tried, by means which God abhorred, to 
work out, in her own time and in her own way, all 
the good her ambitious heart desired for her favorite 
son. She therefore indulged in presumption, where 
she ought to have exercised faith in the great God, 
who is able in His own time, and His own way, to 
fulfill all His own promises : for His counsel shall 
stand, and He will do all His pleasure.^^ 

She should have trusted God, and quietly dis¬ 
charged her duty to both of her boys. Such pre¬ 
sumption is not found in Eebecca's life alone. We 
are all too fond of taking care of God's business, and 
neglecting our own. We are afraid He will not do 
what He has said He will. We love to put our 
puny hands up to Omnipotence, and aid Him in 
doing His work. Let us not distrust God : His 
great hand is on the helm of the universe. What 
the Lord of Hosts has purposed, who shall disan¬ 
nul ? Let us quietly and piously discharge our own 
duty, and remember— 

His purposes will ripen fast, 

Unfolding every hour; 

The bud may have a bitter taste, 

But sweet will be the flower. 



78 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Blind unbelief is sure to err 
And scan bis works in vain; 

God is his own interpreter, 

And lie will make it plain. 

And never forget, that although He may over¬ 
rule our presumptuous conduct, so as to execute 
His purposes, as He did in Kehecca’s case, our 
guilt will not be diminished thereby. The guilt of 
the crucifying of Christ was not thus diminished, 
nor was Eebecca's. 

The third and darkest feature of her married life 
was deceptiveness and falsehood. 

Her husband is now aged, infirm, and blind : he 
feels the chilliness of death creeping over him : he 
knows his body, worn out with the infirmities of 
age, must soon lie in the repose of the sepulchre. 
The spirit of prophecy is upon him ; he would give 
the patriarchal blessing to his sons : and the typical 
covenant blessing to his favorite Esau, whom he 
sends to bring venison to refresh him, before he pro¬ 
ceeds. But meanwhile dark whisperings are heard 
in another part of the tent : Kebecca, with a wild 
eye and excited frame, is whispering black false¬ 
hood and cruel deceit into the ears of her favorite 
son. It was a terrible thing for her woman's soul 
to have thought—^purposed, falsehood and deceit ! 
a sad work of moral depravation must have preceded 
it ! 0, it was horrid, to breathe such mildew on the 

spirit of her boy ; and it was still more horrible to 



REBECCA. 


79 


urge him to the prosecution of her dark plot. It 
makes one believe, that she instigated Jacob to 
take advantage of his brother’s hungry and fainting 
condition, to purchase his birthright with a paltry 
price. At first Jacob’s shrewdness suggested a difii- 
culty ; he said, Esau, my brother, is a hairy man, 
and I am a smooth man : my father, peradventure, 
will feel me, and I shall seem to him as a deceiver; 
and I shall bring a curse upon me, and not a bless¬ 
ing.” It would seem that this danger of a dying 
father’s curse would have deterred this plotting 
mother : but no ! she is desperate in her determi¬ 
nation, and with tones tremulous with energy she 
says, Upon me he the curse my son” This terri¬ 
ble utterance makes one remember the language of 
the Jews to Pilate, when they claimed the life of the 
innocent Jesus : His hlood he on us and our chil¬ 
dren” Jacob, under this maternal infiuence, pre¬ 
pares himself and goes with timid step towards the 
couch of his poor, old father. Isaac, for some cause, 
is suspicious : but Jacob lulls his suspicions by tell¬ 
ing falsehood upon falsehood. When the blind old 
man asks him, Who art thou ?” he replies, I 
am Esau and there is one lie. He says, I have 
done as thou badest me and that is another lie. 
His father asks, How is. it, that thou hast found 
it so quickly Jacob says, ‘‘because the Lord 
thy God brought it to me and that is another lie. 
The blind patriarch, still unsatisfied, asks again, 



80 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


^^Art thou my very son Esau ?' This, it would 
seem, must have melted the heart of that deceiving 
youth ; hut no ! unfalteringly he answers, I am •/' 
and that is still another falsehood. Then the loving 
but partial old man, stretches out his emaciated and 
trembling arms, and says, Come near and kiss me, 
my son;'' and Judas-like, the supplanter stealthily 
draws near and implants a traitorous kiss on the 
shriveled cheek of his sire. He receives the bless¬ 
ing. Kebecca's stratagem has succeeded ; but her 
soul, and her boy's soul, are crimsoned with guilt. 

Esau returns : the plot is discovered : Isaac bows 
his head in grief: agonizingly the stalwart Esau 
“ cries, bless me, even me also, 0, my father !" and 
then lifts up his strong voice and weeps. But his 
grief soon abates : it settles down into bitter hatred 
of his brother ; this hatred forms itself into a mur¬ 
derous purpose—I see him, with clenched hands, 
fiery eyes and stern brow, as he says, The days of 
mourning for my father are at hand, then I will slay 
my brother Jacob." All is now confusion in that once 
peaceful home. The shrewd and plotting Rebecca 
is frightened at the results of her own success : she 
discovers Esau's purpose to kill his brother ; and 
therefore she sends him away to her maiden home 
—to her brother Laban. Thus endeth the record 
of Rebecca's married life. 

Before leaving it, as I picked out gold threads in 
the record of her maiden life, so let me pick out the 



REBECCA. 


81 


dark ones that are interwoven through this narra¬ 
tive. 

Observe first, how little we can tell from what a 
young woman seems to he, of what she may in after 
years become. 

What young woman ever developed a lovelier 
maidenhood than Kehecca, the daughter of Bethuel? 
How artless and pure, delicate and refined, modest 
yet polite, dignified yet courteous, she appeared ! 
Did she then, herself, think that she could ever be 
guilty of such deceit ? Oh, no ! and yet she did 
become what in her pure days she would have des¬ 
pised. Who that saw her at the well of Padan- 
aram, or in the tent at Beersheba, or in the groves 
at Mamre, could have dreamed that she would stoop 
so low. And yet she did become faithless to her 
husband in his old age ; she did become an artful, 
plotting, managing, deceitful, woman. And how 
many women there are, between whose maiden and 
mature life, there is as little correspondence. The 
ripe fruit has not met the promise of the opening 
bud ; they are what they themselves would once 
have shuddered to think of becoming. 

Observe next: the fearful consequences of wrong 
doing, even where it succeeds in gaining its pur¬ 
pose. 

Kebecca was a successful plotter ; her end was 
gained ; but the consequences were— 

1. Guilt in the sight of God. 

4 # 



82 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


2. She embittered the last days of her devoted 
husband. 

3. She sowed enmity in one of her children against 
the other, insomuch that had not Jacob gone away, 
the tragedy of Cain and Abel had been reenacted 
in Gerar. 

4. She broke up the peace and harmony of her 
family. 

5. She lost the society of her darling Jacob, 
whom she had to send from home : whom she never 
saw again, for she died before he returned from 
Haran. A young lady has thus described Kebecca 
bidding farewell to Jacob— 

“ And must thou go, my darling son's 
Light of thy mother’s eyes; 

Her brightest hope of future bliss, 

Her dearest earthly prize 1 
How many thoughts at this sad hour 
Are thronging on my mind ; 

To draw more tight the cords of love 
Around my heart entwined. 

For thou wast ever at my side, 

A comfort and a stay— 

Thy brother, like a roaming deer, 

A wanderer far away. 

And I had thought in death’s dark hour, 

To know that thou wast near; 

To have thy soft and soothing tones 
Fall sweetly on my ear: 

To cheer me through the darksome road 
Which leadeth to the grave, 

And that thy hands would lay me low 
In dark Macpelah’s cave. 



REBECCA. 


83 


But thou must go—no more my ear 
Shall hear thy gentle tone; 

And I must live through weary years 
Sad, childless, and alone. 

No light from |;hee shall dissipate 
Death’s dark and fearful gloom; 

And strangers’ hands shall coldly lay 
Thy mother in the tomb. 

Nay, shrink not thou, my darling boy, 

Nor tremble with a dread : 

The blessing only rests on thee. 

The curse is on my head. 

Mine is the sin and punishment: 

God’s benison is thine; 

O’er thee will heaven’s dews descend. 

Earth yield its corn and wine ; 

Nations and tribes before thy feet. 

Shall bend the humble knee; 

Thy brother’s tribe and kindred all, 

Be bondsmen unto thee. 

This have I gained for thee, my son, 

Who blesseth thee, is blessed. 

And him who dares to curse thy soul, 

On him shall curses rest. 

And when thy brother’s rage is cooled, 

His anger died away; 

And from thy father’s house. 

No longer need’st thou stay; 

What though I may not see thy face. 

Or hear thy loving tone. 

One comfort still is left to me— 

I bear the curse alone. 

6. She is treated by Moses, the historian, with 
neglect; for after the success of the plot, and the 
departure of Jacob, her name is never mentioned hy 



84 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


him ; he tells nothing of her after life—death or 
burial. 

7. She lost the respect of both of her children. 
Esau, as if in defiance of her, married an Hittite : 
and, sad to tell! even Jacob, for whom, in mistaken 
judgment, she had done all, even he seems to have 
lost his affection and respect, for he never return¬ 
ed to see her, while in Haran ; and when he did 
come back, when Esau and he were reconciled, he 
did not even ash concerning her ; nay, he did not 
mention her name, or seek her grave. 

Poor Kebecca ! bitterly didst thou suffer for thy 
partiality, presumption, and deceptiveness ! 0 ! let 

females beware in view of her example. Falsehood 
and deceit are always, in the long run, as unprofit¬ 
able as they are wicked. Let woman be true to her¬ 
self—her Grod—true to truth ; let her despise^deceit, 
as the abominable thing which God hates, and all 
the honorable souls hate : despise it as that which 
corrupts the entire nature ; as that for which no 
beauty of face, or form; no accomplishment of mind, 
or manner, can compensate : and above all let her 
abhor falsehood as a thing as low and mean, as it is 
vicious. What more mournful sight can you see, 
or more deplorable wreck can you find, this side of 
the rotten abyss of licentiousness, than a lying wo¬ 
man ? I have read that a gentleman was engaged 
to a lady ; he admired her for what he thought 
her to be ; he caught her in a deliberate falsehood 



REBECCA. 


85 


—he withdrew his attentions—he said, a woman 
who is capable of deliberate falsehood cannot he my 
wife.^^ 

Did he not say rightly ? You, with one voice 
reply, that he did. You abhor deceit and falsehood ; 
you will he true-hearted, as well as pure-minded; 
you will not soil your womanly character by such 
abominations ; you will be what God meant you 
should : models of purity, truth, and love ; the 
ever-beaming stars in the firmament of home ; the 
supporters of manhood's weakness, as well as the 
source of some of our purest joys. 



TOCHEBED 


Cj|f Pother, 

TRIUMPHANT IN TRIAL. 


Numb. 26; 59. “ AnA the name of Amram’s wife was Jochehed^ 
the daughter of Levi, and she bare Amram, Aaron, Moses, and Mi¬ 
riam, their sister 

In the first lecture of this course we visited Eden 
in its primeval glory, and saw Eve, the mother of 
us all, in her innocence, a happy dweller there ; in 
her guilt, miserably banished thence. In the second 
lecture we visited Ur of Chaldea ; and with Sarah, 
the spiritual mother of us all, journeyed to Pales¬ 
tine, to Philistia, and finally saw her remains ten¬ 
derly laid in Macpelah's cave. In our third we saw 
Kehecca on the plain of Padan-Aram, a blooming 
Syrian maiden ; in the groves of Mamre, a happy 
wife ; and in the tent at Gerar, faithless to her hus¬ 
band in his decrepitude—a deceptive, plotting, 
managing mother. Very different are the scenes 
which will now rise before us. We have taken our 
last look at Eden ; at Mesopotamia. To-day we 



JOCHEBED. 


87 


visit Egypt—the land of hoary wonders ; the land 
of the Pyramids—those grim sentinels of Time— 
pointing to which Napolean said to his army, 
‘‘ Soldiers, from those summits forty centuries look 
down on us Egypt, the land of ancient learning, 
philosophic, scientific and historic ; where mystery 
broods over every thing ; around the heights of rocky 
Pharos, whose lurid fire threw its outgleamings upon 
far-off Mediterranean billows ; around the grand 
temples of Iris and Osiris, with their strange rites ; 
over the wastes of desert sands environing it, out of 
which rise wondrous sphinx and hieroglyphic pilr 
lars ; through the deep m>azes of labyrinthian cata¬ 
combs, where crickets and kings are alike embalmed; 
Egypt, the land of proud lines of kings—Nemen- 
ses and Pharaohs ; the land which has been at one 
time the asylum of the oppressed, and at another 
the scene of the bitterest oppression. 

In ancient times, warriors, like Darius, the Per¬ 
sian monarch, and Antony, the Koman General : 
and in modern times, Bonaparte, the greatest soldier 
that ever trod the martial field, visited Egypt at the 
head of armed legions for conquest. Travelers 
from all countries, antiquarians, philosophers, poets, 
historians, artists and pleasure seekers, now visit it 
for reasons peculiar to themselves. We go thither 
to-day for a different purpose; we go to visit the 
scene of a mother's trial, a mother's faith, and a 
mother's triumph. 



88 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


To every Christian heart Egypt is associated with 
hallowed memories. There is one of tender inter¬ 
est, when Herod, the Koman Pharaoh, sought the 
child Jesus, the' Messiah of God—the Saviour of 
man, that he might destroy Him, it was to Egypt, 
by angelic direction, Joseph and Mary bore Him for 
safety, and found it there. Egypt gave shelter to 
the world's Saviour! 

In its early centuries Christianity won some of its 
grandest triumphs in the land of the Nile. But 
moral desolation now reigns there ! Christianity 
owes it still an unpaid debt, which, heaven grant, 
may soon be liquidated by the reestablishment of 
the blessed gospel. 

Jochebed, the mother of Moses, the world's law¬ 
giver, is the Eepresentative Woman whose history 
is our theme for this lecture. 

The first question you ask is, Was she an 
Egyptian V Yerily not. She was a woman of 
Israel; a daughter of Levi. It will be well for us 
to recall the history of her people, from the point at 
which we left it in the last lecture. 

Jacob, Kebecca's favorite offspring, was the father 
of the twelve tribes of Israel. You remember how 
Joseph, Jacob's favorite son, was sold into slavery by 
his jealous biethren. Do you know, that that is the 
record of the first sale of a man into slavery in the 
world's history ? You remember how Jacob deceived 
Isaac ; and that, when he became old and infirm 



JOCHEBED. 


89 


himself, how his sons deceived him ! You are fami¬ 
liar with the story of the wondrous elevation of 
Joseph—that pious young man, who remained true 
to his God, when it seemed as if God had abandoned 
him; that virtuous young man, who resisted tempta¬ 
tion in its strongest form, when the danger of ex¬ 
posure seemed weakest ; that noble young man, 
whose character stands as a model for the young 
men of all time : I say you are familiar with the 
method by which God raised him from slavery to 
freedom ; from servitude to rulership; from the 
gloom of a dungeon to the light of a palace ; and 
how, through his means, his father's family were set¬ 
tled in Egypt's fairest and richest portion—the land 
of Goshen. 

But at the period when our narrative commences 
circumstances have vastly changed. Over an hun¬ 
dred years have passed away ; Joseph and his im¬ 
mediate descendants are long since dead and forgot¬ 
ten. This people, however, have wondrously multi¬ 
plied, insomuch that where there were but seventy 
persons at first, in a century and a half they in¬ 
creased to five hundred thousand men, capable of 
bearing arms, besides the usual ratio of old men, 
women and children. They are no longer, however, 
the rich and happy dwellers in Goshen, but the op¬ 
pressed slaves of Egyptian taskmasters. 

The king had become alarmed at their increase ; 
his alarm grew greater as he saw that no increase 



90 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


of oppressive measures diminislied their swelling 
numbers. 

The alarmed king discovered a new method for 
stopping the increase of this dreaded people. Dead 
to all the finer feelings of human nature, from his 
gorgeous throne he issued an edict that each male 
child born should be murdered ; the edict further 
required that Hebrew midwives should be the exe¬ 
cutioners of Hebrew boys. Vain! vain requisition ! 
they had women’s hearts, and while they would have 
revolted with all their women’s energy from slay¬ 
ing the tender offspring of even their oppressors, 
they would have died a thousand deaths ere they 
would have imbued their hands in the innocent blood 
of one Hebrew baby boy, each of whom, they well 
knew, was peculiarly dear to their poor trodden- 
down parents. 

Pharaoh finds out that his edict has proven a 
failure; but the plausible reason assigned by the 
midwives deters him from punishing them. Though 
foiled, he will not allow his bloody project to fail. 
Another edict thunders forth from the imperial 
palace ; with the authority of autocrat he charges 
not now the Hebrew mid wives ; not any particular 
class of his officers ; not any special class of his sub¬ 
jects ; but the command is to all his people,” 
that they shall seize every male child born among 
the Hebrews, and hurl him into the remorseless 
river ! Oh ! fearful is the sight ! Enraged Egyp- 



JOCHEBED. 


91 


tians burry to the dwellings of the hated Hebrews, 
and seizing helpless infants, tear them away from 
their mother's sheltering bosoms, and throw them 
into the ravenous tide : while the. wails of helpless 
infancy, the shrieks of frantic mothers, and^ the 
groans of agonized fathers, all blend in one awful 
chorus of woe ! Oh ! it must have made angels 
weep ! and nature itself shudder to look upon the 
swift flowing currents of the Nile, as they bore those 
hundreds on hundreds of precious bodies to the jaws 
of crocodiles, or far away to the dread depths of the 
Mediterranean, there to become food for fish and 
monsters of the deep. 

Amid this scene, Jochebed appears. Her hus¬ 
band's name was Amram, and both of them were 
of the tribe of Levi. They had two children at the 
time this scene opens—a girl and a boy, both of 
whom afterwards became historic characters. The 
names of Aaron and Miriam stand prominent in a 
leading portion of Jewish history—are embalmed 
in our sacred literature, and are familiar as house¬ 
hold words, wherever our Holy Bible is read. Miriam 
was the first born, and when Aaron was three years 
old, while terror, on account of the bloody edict, 
reigned among the Hebrews ; while Jochebed, in 
her lowly dwelling, hears voices and footsteps of 
Egyptians searching adjoining houses—while pal- 
Kdly listening to sounds of cursing and' mocking, 
intermingled with wild prayers and sobbing entrea- 



92 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ties—while listening to the shriek of impotent in¬ 
fancy, she hears the sullen splash, and then the 
screams of heart-broken mothers that tell her of 
murder consummated; in circumstances like these 
she awaits the appearance of another child with 
trembling anxiety. 

At length, another was added to the number of 
her children ; and, oh ! when Jochehed was told 
it was a hoy, must not her poor heart have sunk 
within her ? must not pangs, which only a mother^s 
heart can know, have agonized hers, as she thought 
of the almost inevitable fate of her child, born in 
perilous times or, did some white winged angel 
direct from heaven, whisper to her, on her couch 
of suffering, sweet words of hope ? At any rate, 
with all the energy of a woman's desperation, and 
in the exercise of a pious woman's faith in the God 
of the poor, the weak, and the oppressed, she re¬ 
solved to save her infant boy from the bloody clutches 
of Egyptian butchers. 

The record says that he was a goodly child."— 
Beautiful he would have been to his mother's eyes, 
in any circumstances ; but now, when there was 
momentary danger of his being torn from her ; he 
doubtless appeared an hundred fold more beautiful. 
But what shall she do ?—how shall she evade the 
keen search of maddened enemies ? 1 see her lift 

her wan and tearful eyes heavenward ; I hear her 
cry—God of my fathers Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, 



JOCHEBED. 


93 


help thy poor handmaiden in this the hour of her 
distress/' Jehovah hears and helps. Before her 
mind a plan appears —she will hide him until the 
storm he passed. Where she hid him we are not 
told ; where she could have hid him, so as to have 
kept his existence a secret, I cannot conceive ; for it 
would seem that the usual cries of infancy would 
have betrayed him ; indeed, one such overheard by 
a passing Egyptian, had proved his death knell.— 
But she did, and during three long months, she baf¬ 
fled her foes, and kept her child from their grasp. 
But alas ! alas ! she can keep him hidden no longer ; 
perchance she knows suspicions are abroad ; per¬ 
chance she has seen some wily Egyptian, watching 
her dwelling, or listening cautiously near it, in the 
stilly hour of night. What shall she do now ? 
The babe must be removed ; but whither ? whither ? 

Again a plan comes before her mind ; and how 
strange a plan it was ! how full of danger ! She 
determines to make a little ark, and daubing it 
within and without with slime and pitch, and put¬ 
ting her darling boy in it, she will lay it for 
safety amid the flags on the brink of the Nile. But 
does she not know that worshipped crocodiles abound 
there ? Yes, but she will trust her babe even 
among them, with God all around him, rather than 
expose him to human murderers, from whom she 
has no hope. Her work is done. In the darkness 
of the night, she places that precious ark, with its 



94 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


contents^ more valuable to her than the material 
universe, on the river’s brink : but she may not re¬ 
main with him. I see her, as with heart-wringing 
anxieties, and streaming tears, she kisses his fair 
cheek, and commending him to the care of God, 
leaves him alone, by the dangerous current of the 
deep river ; with no shelter above him but the starry 
sky, and no sound around him, save the murmur of 
the ever-flowing river, as it wends its way to the 
great sea. Placing her daughter at a distance, and 
charging her to watch het baby brother, she retires 
to her home, now lonely, sad and desolate, and waits 
with restless uneasiness, and sleepless anxiety, for 
the morning’s dawn. 

Do you doubt that from her anxious heart, there 
went up incessant prayer to the Omnipresent, that 
He would cover her exposed babe with His shelter¬ 
ing wing ? What could calm such a heart but 
prayer ? Ah ! how little she knew, how dear to 
the heart of God was that babe among the rushes ! 
how little she knew, what a link he was to be in the 
chain of Divine purposes !—how little she knew, 
that the babe she left on the river’s brink—by the 
eternal purpose of God was to be the Deliverer of 
her people, the Lawgiver of the world !—how little 
she dreamed of what that very river, through his 
agency, would become ! A poet hath said of that 
boy, in that frail ark— 



JOCHEBED. 


95 


“ What recks he of his mother’s tears, 

His sister’s boding sigh : 

The whispering reeds are all he hears— 

The Nile soft weltering nigh 
Sings him to sleep. But he will wake, 

And o’er that haughty flood 
Wave his stern rod, and lo ! a lake— 

A restless sea of blood.” 

Morning dawns ; the tops of the pyramids are 
crowned, as with a coronet of gold—sunbeams glit¬ 
ter on the waving Nile, and entering the gorgeous 
bed-chamber of Thermuthis, the monarch's daugh¬ 
ter, break her royal slumbers ; she resolves to bathe 
in the lucid waters of the sacred river ; and strange 
it must seem, to an unbeliever in special providence, 
she wends her way with her attendants to the very 
point, where lies the concealed ark. As she walks 
along, breathing the sweet fresh air of morning, 
perfumed by the fragrance of flowering flags, her 
dark eye rests upon a strange object among them ; 
her curiosity is aroused; she bids an attendant bring 
it to her ; she is obeyed—the ark is brought—the 
light covering is removed, and lo ! to her astonished 
gaze, is revealed a babe, a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked 
babe ; and the record says—behold it wept."— 
0, sweet eloquence of nature ! more potent to her 
woman's heart are those tears of helplessness, than 
the stern edict of her royal father: for though at a 
glance, she saw it was a child of the Hebrews, she 
had compassion on him," and resolved to save 




96 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


him ; and for this noble decision we bless her ; yoa, 
the world blesses her to-day ! For—- 

“No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears, 

No gem, that sparkling hangs from beauteous ears, 

Not the bright star, which night’s blue arch adorn. 

Nor rising sun that gilds the vernal morn, 

Shine with such lustre, as the tears that break 
For others woes down virtue’s lovely cheek.” 

At this moment, from her hiding place, young 
Miriam steps forth ; and while her sisterly heart 
beats more wildly than ever before, at the sight of 
her brother discovered by the daughter of the mon¬ 
arch, who had ordered his death ; hope springs up 
within her, as she sees compassion beaming from the 
face of Thermuthis ; and timidly she ventures to ask, 
“ Shall I go and call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew 
women, that she may nurse the child for thee ?” 
Thermuthis said go/' and the maid went.'" 

How joyfully she hurried homeward to bear this 
strange news to her sad-hearted, pale-faced, anx¬ 
iously waiting mother ; and how that mother's heart 
must have swollen within her; how it must have 
melted with gratitude to the Hearer of prayer, at 
the surprising intelligence ! But perchance some 
torturing fear remained, lest the news might be too 
good to be true ; and it was not until she had hur¬ 
ried to the river side, which she had left so mourn¬ 
fully a few hours before ; it was not until she had 
stood face to face with Pharaoh's daughter, and re- 



JOCHEBED. 


97 


ceived back her own, her darling child, with the 
commission—“ Take this child and nurse it for me, 
and I will pay thee thy wages it was not until she 
had borne him again to her own home, that the last 
dark fear took its returnless flight. 

Ho^. changed is now the condition of Jochebed ! 
how cfearly had her prayers been answered ! By 
faith he was hid three months by his parents.'' 
How startingly plain had been the hand of the 
Eternal. Her son was safe, and her own subsist¬ 
ence provided for, out of the wealth of the oppressor 
of her people. It is supposed that he remained with 
his mother flve or seven years : and that then he 
was taken into the palace, and became the adopted 
son of Thermuthis. Of her we hear no more. The 
fair daughter of the haughty Pharaoh appears no 
farther on the historic page. In after years when 
judgment-plagues scourged the oppressor ; when 
lightnings, tempests, darkling floods, bloody spec¬ 
tres, and crushing woes came upon the house of 
Israel's bondage, and Moses figures so conspicuous¬ 
ly in the stormy scene, Thermuthis is unheard of. 
But surely, the beatitude of Eternal love was upon 
her ; for is it not written in the Holy Evangel— 

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain 
mercy." 

Nor do we read more of Jochebed ; that she kept 
up an acquaintance with her son, years afterwards, 
I have no doubt. Her direct work, however, for 



98 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Grod and his cause, her public historic relation to it 
here ceased. She is brought out by the hand of 
Inspiration from the indiscriminate mass of her peo¬ 
ple ; we see her perform her great mission, and then 
sink back amid the obscurity of the thousands of 
Israel. But you will agree with me, that there is 
enough recorded of her character, as a woman, as a 
mother ; as a woman of piety and great faith ; to 
make us feel that she was one of the ancient wor¬ 
thies, whose names are encircled with undying glory, 
and whose life-records, though brief, are as full of 
stimulus to our faith as of i)ractical instruction to 
our lives. 

Before the biography of the mother of Moses 
passes from before you, like a moving panorama, I 
desire to fix your attention upon a few points of 
special interest. 

I. Consider the whole of this family group. As the 
biography of the mother has moved along panorama¬ 
like, we have noticed them individually; now, look 
at the group. The husband and father, Amram, is 
in the background of the picture, dimly drawn ; you 
see no strong point in him. He doubtless shared 
his wife's anxieties ; but we do not see him do any 
thing to relieve them. It seems strange, that he 
did not even make the ark of bulrushes, and prepare 
it to receive his own child ; for we read that the 
mother took the ark and made it water-tight, by 
daubing it with slime and pitch," herself. It would 



JOCHEBED. 


99 


seem strange, when all was prepared, and the babe 
laid in the ark by his mother's hands, that Amram 
did not carry it to the Nile, or even accompany his 
wife on that desperate errand. 

I very much suspect that he was one of that very 
large class of easy, do-nothing husbands, who leave, 
at least, all the cares of their household, especially 
of their children, to their wives. I very much sus¬ 
pect that he belonged to that class of husbands 
who never fully enter into the feelings of their 
wives ; never fully sympathize with them ; never 
bear their fair proportion of family burdens. But 
let us not do him injustice. Perhaps, poor man, 
slave that he was ! ground down by oppressive task¬ 
masters, the manhood within was crushed, his spirit 
broken : perchance hope had left him, and if so, we 
may not wonder so much that he figures so little in 
the scenes that have passed before us. 

The next and most prominent on the canvass, is 
the heroic wife, whose lofty spirit misfortune had 
not bowed, but stood up erect, amid the stormy 
gloom of her house of bondage, the energetic, fond 
and loving mother. 

The third figure is young Miriam, their first born, 
their only daughter—the sweet watcher of the Nile 
■—whose mature womanhood, radiated with such in¬ 
tellectual and moral splendor. 

The fourth in the group is young Aaron, the 
future high-priest of Israel, the founder of the en- 



100 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


tire systiiin of Jewish sacerdotalship, which was 
called evermore the Aaronite priesthood, of eighty- 
three years of whose life we have no record, but 
whose name was incorporated in the Jewish Eitual. 

The last figure in the picture is young Moses, to 
whom this name was given by Pharaoh's daughter, 
because she drew him out of the water." And 
what interest encircles that beautiful hoy ! lowly 
born though he is ; his early manhood is to ripen 
amid the gorgeous palaces of kings and the pro- 
foundest learning of the world ! He is to be the 
Liberator of a nation, the conqueror on many a gory 
battle-field—the companion of Deity on the fire- 
crowned summit of trembling Sinai, the promulga¬ 
tor to the world, of God's eternal law ; and finally, 
covered with honor and glory—the object of a na¬ 
tion's grateful admiration, in a good old age, with 
his eagle eye undimmed, and his natural force una¬ 
bated, he is to thread his way alone to Pisgah's 
loftiest height, and thence step up to his eternal 
home in heaven. 

What a family group is this ! After Joseph and 
his brethren, God has given us the history of no 
family of Israel, during two centuries, but this. 
Does the world's records show any other family more 
illustrious ? 

2. Consider the beauty of the illustration of a 
mother's love^ presented in this picture. 

How that love beams forth like an unclouded sun, 



JOCHEBED. 


101 


and bathes the whole scene in its mellow glory ! 
Doubtless Jochebed loved her dark-eyed Miriam ; 
doubtless she loved her first born boy — little 
Aaron ; but oh ! that last one—Moses—born amid 
such terrible danger—Moses, her babe, so wondrous- 
ly beautiful as to dazzle the eyes of royalty, yet 
exposed to such a horrid fate : he called out the 
strongest sympathy of her nature ; he agitated the 
deepest depths of her maternal heart; he drew out 
all the strange tenderness of her being. During 
those three months that he lay hid away from others, 
what exquisite joy her lonely care of him afibrded 
her. And when she laid him tenderly in the ark 
her own hands had made, and placed it on the brink 
of the dangerous river; and when she must leave 
him, though perchance rosy slumber lay softly on 
his eyelids, she left her heart—with all its yearning 
tenderness and deathless love—beside him, in his 
shelterless and strange bed. And having placed the 
watcher there, she had done all that the profoundest 
ingenuity could devise or the mightiest love dic¬ 
tate. 

Such, as a general truth, is ever a mother’s love. 
In the whole range of affections there is nothing 
equals it in intensity or perpetuity. A woman has 
said, I refer to Mrs. Hemans, who was herself a 
mother, for none but a mother could have written 
these lines : 

“ There is none 
In all this cold and hollow world, no fount 



102 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within 
A mother’s heart.—It is hut pride, wherewith 
To his fair son the father’s eye doth turn. 

Watching his growth. Aye, on the boy he looks, 

The bright, glad creature springing in his path, 

But as the heir of his own name, the young 
And stately tree, whoso rising strength ere long 
Shall bear his trophies well.—And this is love ! 

This is man's love !—What marvel I you ne’er made 
Your breast the pillow of his infancy, 

W’hile to the fullness of your heart’s glad heavings 
His fair cheek rose and fell; and his bright hair 
Waved softly to your breast!—You ne’er kept watch 
Beside him, till the last pale star had set. 

And morn all dazzling, as in triumph, broke 
On your dim, weary eye. You ne’er smoothed 
His couch, ne’er pressed your lips to his 
When fever parched it; hushed his wayward cries, 

With patient, vigilant, never-wearied love * 

No ! these are woman’s tasks !” 

Many of us to-day are motherless ! we saw our 
mothers die ; their death glances were full of love 
for us ; we kissed those lips pallid in death— 
which so often^ while yet we were unconscious— 
were pressed to ours. Mournfully followed their 
remains to the grave ; soft be the breezes that 
sweep over, and ever-fragrant the flowers that bloom 
around their honored resting place ! Tenderly we 
cherish their memories ! 

Young woman, have you a mother ? Young man, 
have you a mother ? I charge you before God, to 
love, to honor, to cherish, to obey her ! Little dream 
you, of the tide of love that swells in her heart 



JOCHEBED. 


103 


towards you ; little do you know how much she has 
done for you ! or how much she will do for you ! 
Though all others forsake you, she will not ! The 
greater your danger, the sterner your trials, the 
darker your misfortunes, the heavier your sorrows, 
the closer will she press her throbbing heart to yours 
—the closer entwine its mighty tendrils about you ! 
Not many years hence you will see her in her coffin, 
and then you will know what it is to lose your earli¬ 
est, truest, best friend. Study, then, by acts of 
kindness, by words of affection, and above all, by 
virtuous. God-fearing, Jesus-loving lives, to gladden 
her heart and throw sunshine on her path to the 
grave ! and then, a dying mother's blessing will be 
yours, and the holy benedictions of your mother's 
God be upon you evermore ! Such is the advice 
and pledge of the Holy Bible ! Such is the advice 
of all the wise and good. 

It is a remarkable fact, that the one who loves his 
mother, who honors his mother, is never a bad man ; 
she is never a bad woman. Tell me how a young 
woman treats her mother, and I will tell you what 
her general character is. Tell me how a young man 
treats his mother, and I will tell you what his pros¬ 
pects are, for time and a vast eternity. Men vrho 
have stood highest in the world's regard, have been 
thus distinguished. Olympia, the mother of Alex¬ 
ander, was a severe woman. Alexander's deputy. 
Antipater, once wrote letters of complaint against 



104 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


her to the Emperor. He replied, Knowest thou 
not that one tear of my mother, will blot out a 
thousand letters of thine V’ 'No grander scene oc¬ 
curred in the life of our Washington than the follow¬ 
ing : Immediately after organizing the government 
he hastened to Frederickshurgh, to visit his aged 
mother, who was sinking under disease. He said to 
her, ‘‘ The people have elected me President, but 
before I go to fulfill the mission, it was my duty to 
come and hid you adieu : as soon as business will 
allow, I will hasten to you.^' She interrupted him 
and said, You will see me no more ; my disease 
is fast approaching my vitals. I hope I am pre¬ 
pared for a better world : but go, George—fulfill the 
high destiny heaven has assigned you : go, my son, 
may heaven and a mother's blessing attend you." 
The President bowed his noble head and wept. The 
brow— around which Fame wreathed the purest lau¬ 
rel virtue ever gave to man—relaxed from its lofty 
bearing. That face, which could have awed a Ko- 
man Senate in its Fabian day, was bathed in tears. 
He never saw her more. But what an example has 
he left to the young men of America ! 

Before leaving this beautiful picture, consider— 

3. The impressive lesson of a mother’s influence 
here taught. 

Great men have always had superior mothers. 
This is true of almost every man whose name stands 
high on the historic page, as a statesman or sage, 



JOCHEBED. 


105 


philosopher or poet, warrior or philanthropist. Each 
of the children of Jochehed possessed the elements, 
and attained the elevations, in different degrees, of 
true greatness. Whose hand, under God, planted 
in their young minds the seeds of those great prin¬ 
ciples which guided and moulded, and gave to im¬ 
mortality their lives ? Whose hut their mother’s 
hand ? Who stood at the fountain head whence their 
life-streams gushed forth, and directed them into 
those channels of God-honoring, world-hlessing use¬ 
fulness ? who, hut their mother ? 

Mark her influence, especially upon Moses. Think 
of her circumstances, after Pharaoh’s daughter had 
consigned him to her charge. The perils through 
which he has passed have made him peculiarly dear 
to her ; and now she knows that he can remain with 
her hut a few years at most; then she must give 
him up, surrender him to he the adopted child of 
another; and that other, the daughter of the op¬ 
pressor of her people ; that other, a stranger to the 
God she loves and worships; that other, an idolater. 
She sees that worse perils than those of Egyptian 
murderers, and Nile monsters, await her son. They 
could merely harm the body; these may ruin his 
soul. She will do all a mother’s industry and prayers 
can do in the brief period she is to have him under 
her influence. She may feel justified in compara¬ 
tively neglecting her other children, who are to re¬ 
main with her, and bestow unusual attention and 



106 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


care upon him from whom she must part—too soon, 
alas! at longest, perchance much sooner than she 
anticipates. What a motive, then, she has to work 
while the day of opportunity lasts ! Will she not 
improve it ? Will she not bring all the powers 
of her strong mind, her intense love, with ardent 
prayers, to hear upon her great task ? Yerily she 
will ! 

Her first object is, to teach her boy a knowledge 
of the true God—to make him abhor that idolatry 
to whose most gorgeous fascinations he will he ex¬ 
posed. To do this, she tells him cherished stories 
of God’s dealings with his forefathers—Abraham, 
Isaac, Jacob and Joseph ; she tells him of the cove¬ 
nant He made with them ; acd in simple yet 
glowing language, the promises He had given ; she 
tells him that God foretold to his servant that Israel 
would be in captivity hundreds of years, hut that 
the day of deliverance would dawn. And in order 
still more to impress his mind with ideas of God, 
can you not see her teaching him to how his knees, 
and fold his hands, and join with her in prayer ? 
Can you not see her, as with radiant face she tells, 
how God watched over his infancy, when so many 
other children were hurled into the devouring waters ? 
Can you not see her, as again and again she takes 
his little hand, and leads him to the very spot on 
the river’s brink, where she had hid him on that 
dark night 7 and as she points to it, and the rushing 



JOCHEBED. 


lOV 


waters, can you not hear her tell him how God pro¬ 
tected him there—how God sent Pharaoh's daugh¬ 
ter, and how God touched her heart with compassion 
for his helplessness ? 

Oh ! is it too much to believe, that she often 
visited that never-to-be-forgotten place, and there, 
where the sad wail of his lonely infancy had gone 
forth on the still night-air—even there, cause him 
to vow again and again that he would never forget 
—never forsake her God and his God, who had 
shown such tender care for him ? 

The period draws near when Thermuthis will 
claim her adopted son. The day for his removal to 
the palace is fixed—the parting hour is near; 
Jochebed's prayers become more and more intense 
—she wrestles with the angel of the covenant—her 
faith prevails—dim visions of her son's future great¬ 
ness beam on her spirit's horizon, rainbov/s of pro¬ 
mise span the cloudy distance, for surely God would 
not have called her son, preserved as by a miracle, 
into the family of Pharaoh, unless He had a mis¬ 
sion for him there, and thus prepare him for some 
great exigency—perhaps the deliverance of Israel. 
Assuredly do I believe that when she gave up her 
son, God had given her the evidence that her boy 
was safe, that he would be true to his oppressed peo¬ 
ple and their God. Was he not so ? Verily he 
was ! for, after having been educated in all the learn¬ 
ing of the Egyptians, he arrived at manhood, and 



108 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


his final choice must publicly he made—to him 
were offered the blandishments of wealth, the dig¬ 
nity of position while living, and a pyramid for his 
sepulchre when dead, but he chose “ rather to suffer 
affliction with the people of Grod he chose rather 
to identify himself with the poor and enslaved peo¬ 
ple of his mother—became their deliverer, and led 
them forth from the house of their bondage. 

Pharaolfis daughter said to the Jewish mother, 
take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give 
thee thy wages and, noble woman that she was, 
she fulfilled her contract. But, oh ! Jochebed, for 
her care of her boy, received wages that Thermuthis 
knew not. Perchance she lived to see his manhood's 
glory ; perchance not. But she received, every day 
that she did live, wages more precious than Egypt's 
treasury could give ; she received them in her dying 
hour ; they made her pillow soft ; her death gloom 
radiant, and to-day, with her son in heaven, she is 
still receiving them, and will receive them during all 
the cycles of eternity. 

0, mothers, mothers ! learn this lesson ! have 
Jochebed's care for your children ; her industry in 
teaching them. Have her God for your helper—her 
faith for your reliance, and ye shall mould their char¬ 
acters, and ye shall receive your wages." Your 
children shall rise up and call you blessed and 
they shall be blessings to the world. John Quincy 
Adams said, All that I am, my mother made me." 



JOCHEBED. 


109 


John Randolph said to a distinguished Southern 
statesman, I used to he called a Frenchman, be¬ 
cause I took the French side in politics. But though 
this is fiilse, I should have been a French Athiest 
had it not been for one recollection, and that was 
the memory of the time when my departed mother 
used to take my little hands in hers, and causing 
me to bow at her knee to pray, ^ Our Father who 
art in Heaven.' " And many to-day, amid the cares 
and busy strife of life, can say— 

“ 0, mother, sweetest name on earth, 

We lisp it on the knee— 

And idolize its sacred worth 
In manhood’s ministry. 

And if I e’er in heaven appear— 

A mother’s holy prayer, 

A mother’s hand and gentle tear, 

Tliat pointed to a Saviour here 
Shall lead the wanderer there.” 



MIKI AM, 


Jfirsi 8 


Exodus 15: 20. “ And Miriam^ the prophetess^ the sister of Aaron, 
took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went out with her, 
with timbrels and dances*^ 


Evekt student of history, and every observer of 
mankind, has noticed the powerful effect which phy¬ 
sical influences, arising from climate or scenery and 
local associations, historic or otherwise, have upon 
the formation of physical constitutions, and mental 
and moral character. So obvious is this, that when¬ 
ever wise men attempt to analyze a given history 
and character, they always take into careful con¬ 
sideration the circumstances under which that his¬ 
tory commenced and that character was formed. 

We shall fail to-day of appreciating the queenly 
Miriam, who stands at the head of the Prophetesses 
of our Grod, in olden time, unless we patiently and 
somewhat carefully call up before us the scenes her 
young eyes first saw ; the influences, physical, as- 



MIRIAM. 


Ill 


sociational, and moral, beneath which her beautiful 
girlhood bloomed into a magnificent womanhood. 
Indeed, the land where Miriam was born—which 
was to Israel both an asylum and a house of bond¬ 
age—where God's own people grew up into national 
power, and by oppression were compressed into the 
densest nationality; where Jehovah made some of 
the sternest and most awful developments of mira¬ 
culous energy ; where Aaron, the first high priest, 
typical of the great High Priest of our profession, 
and Moses, the Lawgiver of the world, were born : 
the land, concerning which some of the grandest 
prophecies were uttered ; where, in its early cen¬ 
turies, Christianity not only made some of its most 
splendid triumphs, but raised up some of its most 
eloquent advocates —this land is invested with an 
interest to every intelligent Christian mind, which 
pertains to scarcely any other portion of the world. 

How strange are some of its natural features. It 
never knew a winter, for it has but two seasons— 
spring and summer—the latter lasting from April to 
November. Although rain never falls upon it, still, 
its productive portions yield three harvests each year. 
This productiveness is caused by the inundations of 
the Nile, which Egypt’s mythology placed among the 
gods, whose regular overflows leave rich alluvial de¬ 
posits on the sandy soil. Its-atmosphere is strange¬ 
ly dry ; insomuch that figures drawn on the exter¬ 
nal portions of temples, with a kind of chalk, cen- 



112 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


turies on centuries ago, remain perfect unto the pre¬ 
sent day. And then what objects of curiosity are 
those pyramids ! the largest of which covers twelve 
acres of ground, is six hundred feet high, and occu¬ 
pied an hundred thousand men, twenty years in 
building. We can hut ask. Why were they built ? 
Was it for the celebration of mysterious rites, or for 
sepulchral purposes, or were they to be symbolic 
representations of great truths ? To us, they sim¬ 
ply appear towering up in their solitary grandeur, 
as mournful monuments of useless ambition, as en¬ 
during proofs of the superior earthly permanency 
of matter over man. 

And what interest invests the ruins of its grand 
old cities ! of magnificent Thebes, of which Homer 
thus sang— 

“ The world’s great Empress on the Egyptian plains, 

That spreads her conquests o’er a thousand states, 

And pours her heroes through an hundred gates,” 

Of splendid Memphis, and learned Heliopolis, and 
Sais. Then there were, you know, the treasure 
cities, such as Kamesis. The grain now used in 
Constantinople comes from Egypt ; and during the 
six hundred and fifty years that it was a Komau 
province, it was called the granary of Rome.’" By 
the light of modern investigations, its ancient his¬ 
tory is no longer a mystery. A French Engineer, 
with his pickaxe, turned up a block of black basalt 
on the left bank of the Nile, upon which were found 



MIRIAM. 


113 


in three parallel inscriptions, the key to the Hiero¬ 
glyphic language, so that more is now known of the 
minutiae of life in Egypt, under the Pharaohs, than 
of life in England, under the Saxon kings. The 
result is, that we have the outline history of those 
peerless cities, which were rich in arts and science, 
before Jerusalem, Tyre, Sidon, Athens, and Kome, 
had an existence ; or a single Phenician ship had 
parted the waters of the Mediterranean ; or Solon 
taught, or Numa mused, or Homer sung. In seven¬ 
teen hundred ninety-six and seven, when Napoleon 
invaded Egypt, he took with him philosophers to 
examine its mysteries. They were all unbelievers 
in Bible religion. They found on the temple of 
Denderah, and also in Upper Egypt, representations 
of the Zodiac, one of which they said, must have 
been seventeen thousand years old, and the other 
five thousand, when the Christian Era began. At 
this scientific announcement, French infidelity raised 
a shout of triumph : but their triumphing was 
short, for Champoleon, a keener investigator, found 
on one of the rings the name of Augustus Caesar ; 
on the other that of Antoninus, so that it was de¬ 
monstrated that the one was formed at or about the 
time of the Christian era, and the other one hun¬ 
dred and forty years after it. 

It was in this region of antique mystery, that 
Miriam first saw the light. The child of a family 
of the Hebrews—which race had already been one 



114 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


hundred and fifty years in slavery—she was bom 
with its fetters on her fair limbs, and its black 
shadow on her bright spirit. Her childhood was 
passed on the hank of the Nile, on whose ample 
bosom she saw floating the splendid argosies of 
Egypt; around the bases of pyramids, sphinx and 
lofty monumental pillars. She was early taught 
that, though in bondage, she belonged to a people 
who were in covenant with the true God, who had 
promised deliverance to Israel, and foretold for them 
a national dignity and glory, which should far sur¬ 
pass any that the world had ever seen. She was 
early taught, also, by a fond and loving mother, 
whose first-born she was, to abhor the idolatry by 
which she was surrounded, and to adore the God of 
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Such were the cir¬ 
cumstances, physical, associational, and moral, un¬ 
der which young Miriam was born and nurtured. 
Her biography presents four scenes of leading in¬ 
terest, which I shall attempt to portray. The first 
has been called— 

MIRIAM’S VIGIL AT THE SACRED RIVER. 

This scene, I do not anticipate, will interest par¬ 
ticularly only one part of my audience, and that 
part will not be the wise, the deep-thinking men, 
nor perchance the mature women ; but it will be 
the youth, and especially the young females present. 
They, I know, will lov-a to look with me at the 



MIRIAM. 


115 


youDg girl—Miriam, watching with tearful eyes 
her baby brother, alone on the brink of the deep, 
wide river, where horrid crocodiles and other mon¬ 
sters abounded. They will remember the story, how 
the wicked king resolved to murder all the boy babes 
of Israel; how Jochebed, Miriam's mother, hid her 
infant Moses three months ; and when she could 
keep him no longer safe, in that hiding-place, how 
she took .a little ark, like a cradle, made it water¬ 
tight, and placing her babe in it, took it for con¬ 
cealment down to the river side, and placed it 
among the flags ; and that then she dared not re¬ 
main by it herself, for that would excite suspicion. 
Do you recollect what that poor, sad mother did ? 
She called her little Miriam, a dark-haired, black- 
eyed, pale-cheeked, thoughtful girl, only seven 
years old, and taking her little white hand in hers, 
all trembling with emotion, led her to a grove of 
palms, where, concealed herself, she might see any 
one who approached the ark, and then said to her— 

Daughter, remain here, keep your eye constantly 
on yon spot where I have had to leave your brother, 
to keep him from the murderous hands of the Egypt¬ 
ians, and if any thing occurs, come to me imme¬ 
diately ; fear not, daughter, God will be with thee, 
while thou art watching our darling." 

Eemember now it is night, past midnight.— 
Miriam is alone. All is still as death around her, 
except the waves of the river, as they murmur sea- 



116 


REPRESENTAItVE WOMEN. 


ward. The night air is damp and chill ; but there 
she stands, on her lonely watch—listening, fearfully 
and sadly. 0, how her heart yearns toward her 
infant brother, down there among the flags ! but 
she may not go near him !—there she stands, hour 
after hour, and, oh ! that sister's vigil doth guard 
that frail ark, as carefully, and more tenderly than 
the watch of a diademed archangel had done" 1 
At length, the maiden beholds morning penciling the 
east, with her coloring of gold. Now she breathes 
freer—the dangers of the night are passed—birds 
begin to sing amid the palm trees—the warmth of 
sunbeams draws out the aroma of flowers, and her 
young heart's pure emotions gush up to meet these 
joyous influences. 

But look !—her black eye dilates ! her form 
trembles ! she scarcely breathes ! for see !—yonder, 
Egyptians are approaching !—they go toward the 
river !—they are going directly toward where the 
babe is !—they stop just there ! and 0, God, they 
have found the ark ! What shall the poor sister 
do ? Shall she return to her mother ? No ! no ! 
the babe may be gone before she returns. A wo¬ 
man's energy rises up within her—she goes straight 
to the Egyptians—and though she discovers the 
dignity of Pharaoh's daughter—emboldened by the 
compassion beaming from the countenance of Ther- 
muthis, sweetly she asks—“ Shall I go and call thee 
a nurse of the Hebrew women" ? Wonderful to 



MIRIAM. 


117 


relate, Thermuthis, passing by her own attendants, 
accepts the offer of the little stranger girl, and says 

go'"—and Miriam went. Don't you see her, as 
with dishevelled hair, and wild beaming eye, and 
joy-lit face, she runs to her mother, and almost out 
of breath tells the strange story ? Accompanying 
her mother, she returns—they receive the dear little 
one, and blissfully forgetting the anxieties and tears 
and loneliness of her night watch, she bows before 
God with Jochebed, and blesses the Hearer of prayer. 

We pass to the second scene, which we shall call 

MIRIAxM AT THE RED SEA. 

Betwixt these scenes eighty'five years intervene ; 
and we shall fail of accomplishing one object of these 
lectures—which is to follow the thread of Jewish 
history—if we do not stop here, and briefly survey 
the intervening events, which will form the grand 
foreground of this scene. At the age of forty, Moses 
fled from Egypt to Midian ; there, at the expiration 
of another forty years, God appeared and commis¬ 
sioned him to go and demand of Pharaoh the liber- 
etion of Israel. With Aaron he returned, and fear¬ 
lessly demanded of Pharaoh, thus—“ The Lord God 
of the Hebrews hath sent me unto thee saying : let 
my people go, that they may serve me." Haughtily 
the monarch refused this demand. Then came, 
after the working of several miracles, those terrible 
plagues, whose very record has struck terror into 



118 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


the minds of believing readers. Some there are, who 
see nothing worthy of God in their infliction ; hut 
we must remember the great object of these plagues 
—it was four-fold. 

1— To confirm faith in Himself, as the true God, 
on the part of Israel. 

2— To constrain Pharaoh to release His people, 
by shewing him the power of their God. 

3— To inflict merited punishment for national sins. 

4— And especially they were aimed at the over¬ 
throw of Egyptian idolatry. 

For the Lord said, against all the gods of Egypt 
will I execute judgment.'’^ Observe, how in accom¬ 
plishing these purposes, each plague was aimed at 
an idol god. They worshipped serpents: Aaron's rod 
was transformed into a serpent, and swallowed their 
juggling, serpentine rods. It is a fact, that the 
ancients, by touching a point in the back of a ser¬ 
pent, could cause it to become stiff—for proof of 
which I refer you to the Americana Encyclopaedia," 
word Asp." They worshipped the Nile : even its 
fish were sacred. God changed it to blood, and its 
fish to putridity. It had always been a source of 
good to them ; but lo ! legions of frogs came up 
out of it; thus out of their good came evil. Their 
law was, that no one on whom there was lice could 
approach their altars ; and lo ! the dust was smitten, 
and this impure thing covered man and beast, inso¬ 
much that the magicians themselves said, This is 



MIRIAM. 


119 


the finger of God.’’ They worshipped Beelzebub, 
the fly god ; and behold, swarms of ravenous flies 
entered all their houses, and corrupted their very 
land. They worshipped brutes—the hull, ram, 
heifer, goat—but another plague svrept away all 
these. They had a custom of burning human 
bodies and hurling the ashes into the air : thus 
sacrificing unto Typhon. Moses hurled ashes into 
the air, and its small dust falling upon man or beast, 
produced hlains or boils. They worshipped the sun, 
hut behold, a darkness that could be felt, of three 
days continuance, covered up the sun. They wor¬ 
shipped the elements, and behold, God sent roaring 
thunders, destructive hail, and devouring fire, that 
ravaged the land. They worshipped a god called 
Serapis, who, they supposed, protected their land 
from locusts ; but at the command of Moses, locusts 
came like an overshadowing curse, and departed at 
his bidding. Then followed one, more terrible and 
grievous than any other, the dark wing of God's 
death-angel stretched over Egypt, and slew their 
first-born. But this was just retribution ; for had 
they not murdered the first-born of Israel ? Now 
God's object was gained. Israel rejoiced in the visi¬ 
ble display of Jehovah's power, and were over¬ 
whelmed with a sense of his care for them, Egypt's 
idolatry was humbled and crushed. Pharaoh's heart 
yielded, and he said—Gf, serve the Lord your 
God." 



120 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


The passover was instituted. The iron door of 
the house of bondage opened, and slowly and cau¬ 
tiously, silently the people, two and a half millions 
in number, moved out, and journeyed toward the 
sea, and encamped on its wave-washed shore. They 
felt secure. But at the midnight watch, there were 
strange sounds upon the still air. Pharaoh with 
chariots of war, and prancing horses of war, and 
thousands of men of war, in mighty mail,’^ were 
on their track ; they approached not, however, for a 
cloud settled down between the armies, so that 
the one came not near the other all the night.” 
Terrible alarm seized upon the people ; black visions 
of oppression and crushing toils, and hopeless bond¬ 
age came up before them ; but Moses with a voice 
like a trumpet, exclaimed—Fear ye not, stand 
still, and see the salvation of God,” then he waved 
his mysterious rod over the billowy deep ; and by 
the power of Him who created them, the waves 
rolled up like mighty scrolls on either side, and 
stood there like walls of crystal, beside the path 
02)ened for the redeemed to walk in. 

With joyful hope, mingled with fear, the thou¬ 
sands of Israel silently marched through the parted 
deep. Shudderingly, mothers pressed their little 
ones closer to their bosoms, as they looked up at 
the watery walls on either side. Finally, the far¬ 
ther bank was reached in safety ; but as they look¬ 
ed backward, behold the Egyptian hosts with ex- 


0 



MIRIAM. 


121 


ultant shouts, and rumbling of chariot wheels, pioud, 
prancing horses, waving war banners, and pealing 
war music, were pouring into the gorge of uplifted 
waves. Again were the people filled with wild 
alarm : hut deep called unto deep.'' Hearken to 
that noise of a multitude of waters, as the watery 
walls fall upon the advancing army and banner and 
plume, the horse and his rider, the crowned monarch 
and the humble soldier, are engulphed in common 
ruin ; while the shrieks and curses of drowning 
men, the death neigh of beasts, struggling in their 
agony, mingled with the roar of foam-crested surges, 
wail forth a horrid requiem over the enemies of God 
and of Israel. Silently Israel looked on this terrific 
scene, impressed deeply with its awfulness. But 
soon they become conscious of their position, enrap¬ 
turing joy fills every heart, wildly, rapturously hus¬ 
bands and wives embrace each other, and press to 
their hearts their children, who are never to know 
the bitter doom of slavery. Standing now on God's 
free soil, breathing the free air of liberty, they 
throw up their free arms to heaven and make the 
welkin ring with such shouts as only free men and 
free women can raise. 

All this, however, is only the foreground of the 
second scene in the life of Miriam. During these 
eighty years we have not heard of her, but she hath 
been with her people during all this period, sharing 
their trials, sympathizing with them in their troubles, 



122 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


supporting them in their despair, by fiery words of 
indignation, and sweet words of hope. The fact 
that it was her brother who faced the haughty king 
—her brother, through whom God scourged the op¬ 
pressor : her brother, who was their deliverer ; this 
fact, I say, must have made her an object of interest, 
and increased greatly her influence among them. 
Doubtless, she was to the women of Israel, very 
like what Moses was to the men ; and then, remem¬ 
ber God gave her the mysterious spirit of prophecy, 
the strange power of foreseeing and foretelling fu¬ 
ture events ; thus to her extraordinary intellectual 
endowments was added this highest and most influ¬ 
ential gift. Hence, when the murmur of joy on the 
banks of the sea had ceased, and Moses and the 
children of Israel sang that great anthem—recorded 
in the fifteenth chapter of Exodus—Miriam appears 
with her eye flashing prophetic fire, and her voice 
ringing out like a trumpet peal, accompanied by all 
the women with timbrels and with dances, in jubi¬ 
lant procession, chanting responsive to Moses,— 
“ Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed glo¬ 
riously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into 
the sea.'' And her magnificent hallelujah, worthy 
of a prophetess of our God, and of the grand occa¬ 
sion, made the solitudes of the wilderness around 
them echo with joy, while notes of rapture floated 
melodiously over that solemn sea ; now the deep 
grave of an imperial army." This song and response 
were sung six hundred years before Homer— 



MIRIAM. 


123 


“ The blind old man of Scio’s rocky isle/' 

swept from his immortal harp the Iliad, and yet in 
its grandeur, it still towers heavenward, and thrills 
us like a trumpet blast. You have now before you 
the second scene, with its heavy foreground, and 
radiant figures, in the life of Miriam, the “ First 
Prophetess/' The record next presents to us— 

jMIRIAM’S sin and punishment. 

The Israelites, led by the cloud by day, and the 
fire by night," had journeyed to the wilderness of 
Sin, and encamped on its extended plain, on each 
side of which were mountains. There the standards 
were unfurled and the Tabernacle set up. Thus 
located, they were in the vicinity of Sinai, whose 
bare and craggy sides had just been mantled with 
gloom ; its base, tremulous with earthquakes ; its 
summit crowned with a coronet of fire, around 
which vivid lightnings and crashing thunders had 
guarded the pavilion of Jehovah, while He gave His 
Law to man. 

Moses, Aaron and Miriam, appear to h^ve been 
associated in the leadershij) of Israel. They were 
of one blood, and bound together, it would seem, by 
ties indissoluble. But poor, frail, human nature 
—how frail thou art even in thy best estate ! Mi¬ 
riam became jealous of the power of Moses. Per¬ 
haps imperceptibly to herself, ambition had arisen 
within her and slowly grown, until stifling all the 



124 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


sweet affections of her womanly nature, and her 
sisterly heart, it arrayed her in opposition to her 
noble brother. The jealousy within her easily found 
ostensible grounds for itself without her. Perhaps 
the primal occasion of her change of feeling toward 
her brother, was his adoption of the suggestion 
of Jethro, his father-in-law, by which the people 
were divided into companies, and placed under the 
charge of captains, so that her general influence 
was, as she thought, much weakened. She pro¬ 
fessed, however, to be offended with Ziporah, the 
Ethiopian wife of Moses; and her eagle eye per¬ 
ceiving similar elements at work in her brother 
Aaron, she took him aside, and the record says, 

She spoke against Moses and appealing to the 
pride of Aaron, she said, hath the Lord indeed 
spoken only by Moses ? hath ho not also spoken by 
us ?’’ A conspiracy was matured, but God’s great 
eye saw it all. His ear heard every word, and He 
commanded the three to go up to the tabernacle. 

What a picture they present in that sanctuary— 
behold the three ! Moses in the majestic calmness 
of innocence, Aaron tremulous with conscious guilt, 
and Miriam, pallid but firm. The pillar of cloud, 
radiant with Divinity, appeared, out of which issued 
the awful voice of God, approbating his faithful ser¬ 
vant, and condemning the conspirators. The cloud 
disappeared, and as they turned and looked upon 
each other—lo ! the once magnificent Miriam was 



MIRIAM. 


125 


Btricken with leprosy. Overwhelmed with grief, 
Aaron fell at the feet of Moses and besought him to 
intercede for their sister. Moses wept, and cried, 
Heal her now, 0 God, I beseech thee.’' The leper 
trembled with grief, while she heard the brother, 
whom she had injured, intercede for her ; but God 
refused to remove the punishment immediately, and 
for seven days she was banished from the camp; 
and then, deeply penitent, she was healed and re¬ 
stored to it an humbler, better woman. 

My friends, what is the name we give to the sin of 
which she was guilty ? It is the sin 0/ detraction 
—the sin of speaking against another unjustly. 
This is the very sin she committed, and which is so 
common now-a-days, that of depreciating others, of 
detracting from their real merit in character and 
conduct. The Lord said to Aaron and Miriam, 
Wherefore were ye not afraid to speak againsi 
Moses ?” Thus you see, it was this prevalent sin, 
originating in secret and unacknowledged jealousy, 
the sin of speaking against another in private, for 
Miriam spake against Moses, to Aaron, privately. 
0 , what a cruel thing it was ! It made Miriam for¬ 
get her vigil at the Nile, when alone she watched 
with tearful interest her brother, Moses; it made 
her forget long years of sweet companionship with 
him, and ten thousand kindnesses received from him; 
it made this brave woman a contemptible coward, 
for not daring to whisper her complaints in his own 
ear, she stabbed him in the dark. 



126 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Tlie world is full of the sin of detraction. It is 
confined to neither sex. Men there are, who, like 
Aaron, are guilty of it ; they tear down each others 
fair fame, they disparage each others performances, 
they are wonderfully critical of each others efforts ; 
and their unkind criticisms are not made to each 
others faces, for each others benefit, but to foes, for 
injury. How this sin abounds in the political world! 
Detraction not only blackens the fair fame of the 
living, hut often, hyena-like, tears open the graves 
of the honored dead, to feed its devilish appetite for 
corruption. And is not Miriam's sin found still 
among her sex ? Is not jealousy, secret and unac¬ 
knowledged, oftentimes the cause of that gossip, 
where the weaknesses of others, their style of dress, 
their manners, their expressions, are detailed pri¬ 
vately to willing ears ? 

I yield to no man in my admiration of true female 
character; I love the mother who bore me with an 
affection as deathless as my nature. I respect and 
honor woman, as suj)erior to my own sex, in virtue 
and moral intuition. I would rectify all the wrongs 
they suffer, and defend all the rights which belong 
to them. But as an honest man, I must say, that I 
am often astonished at the feebleness of woman's 
sympathy with woman ! I am astonished that 
women seem to have far greater charity for men's 
sins than for those of their own sex ! I am aston¬ 
ished at the petty jealousies which so often disturb 



MIRIAM. 


127 


their social relations—at their speaking against” 
each other, by detailing expressions uttered in mo¬ 
ments of unguarded converse, by criticising each 
others apparel and manners ! 0, is it kind ? Is it 

womanly ? Full well I know that but few intend 
to be guilty of the sin of detraction—Miriam’s sin. 
I know with many, it is the result of thoughtless¬ 
ness ; but its influence extends much farther than 
they ever imagine ; it excites prejudices in the 
young who hear it, which will live long after those 
who uttered it are dead ; it wrings many innocent 
hearts, and they and God only know the bitter tears 
that are shed on account of it. 

Of course there is no danger of our being pun¬ 
ished as Miriam was ; but 0, there is a leprosy of the 
soul, as well as of the body ! Let those of us who 
think we stand, take heed lest we fall. In those 
seven days of banishment and disease, how her whole 
life must have come up before her, and oh! how 
bitterly she must have regretted that she did not 
extinguish the first spark of jealousy she felt burn¬ 
ing within ! Ah ! how bitterly she must have re¬ 
gretted that sin, so unworthy of her, as well as de¬ 
grading to her. Let us guard our hearts, and pray 
with David, Set a watch, 0 Lord, before my 
lips.” 

“ Full oft a word that lightly leaves the tongue, 

Another heart unnecessarily has wrung: 

And were the wound but present to the eye, 

We’d mourn the pain that solace might defy. 



128 


REPRESENTATITE WOMEN. 


Was it a taunt—perhaps a thoughtless jest— 

An idle ripple on the vacant breast; 

But thy shafts may yield a venomed death, 

What need to speed them but a little breath ! 

We toy with hearts, as if the thousand choi-ds 
That vibrate to the touch of hasty words, 

Could join our discords all the live-long day, 

Nor any tension cause them to give way. 

0, strike them gently ; every human breast 
Is by a secret load of grief opprest, 

Forbear to add a note of timeless woe, 

Where discords ever are so prone to flow.” 

MIRIAM’S DEATH. 

As the Israelites journeyed through the wilder¬ 
ness they were cheered all along the weary way by 
the prospect of a permanent home in the land of 
Canaan : promised in the covenant to their fathers. 
Glorious were the visions of the goodly land which 
floated before their imaginations ; but Miriam, the 
maiden, who, during half a century, had by inspira¬ 
tions from God, been to her people in Egypt a con¬ 
solation and a hope—Miriam, who had been their 
prophetess, pointing to bright scenes in the misty 
distance—long before Moses was their prophet— 
Miriam, the leader of the women of Israel—the 
poetess, the composer of their sacred songs—Mi¬ 
riam, the leading responsive singer at the triumph 
of the Ked Sea, having sinned, and thus blurred the 
beauty of her mature womanhood, may never even 



MIRIAM. 


129 


see the land of promise—she must die ! die in the 
wilderness ! 

One hundred and thirty years have passed since 
her birth—a long life-time ! penitent for her sin, 
and trusting in Jehovah, surrounded by her kindred, 
among whom conspicuously stood her brothers, Moses 
and Aaron, she died, and tenderly and weepingly they 
buried her : and strange to tell, her brothers soon 
followed her into eternity. Four months after Mi- 
riam^s death at Kadish, Aaron slept the slumber 
that knows no waking, on Mount Hor. Some six 
months after, on the heights of Pisgah, Moses died 
and God buried him. Thus the three distinguished 
persons, whose acts we have recorded in the last two 
lectures, all passed off the stage of human life in 
one year ; neither of them ever placed foot on the 
farther side of Jordan, where the nation they had 
delivered was to arise to the highest dignity of 
power. And thus, my hearers, hath it been in all 
the past: how long soever the thread of mortal life 
hath been stretched out, the icy hand of death hath 
finally broken it. Thus it is now, while I speak and 
you listen, thousands are expiring, yea, 

“ Death rides on every passing breeze, 

And lurks in every flower; 

Each season has its own disease— 

Its perils every hour.” 

All the ways of human life tend toward one com- 



130 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


mon end—the grave, the cold and silent grave. Be¬ 
fore his death, when all hope had departed, Daniel 
Webster asked his son, Fletcher, to read this im¬ 
mortal verse, whose sad truth the dying statesman 
deeply felt : 

“ The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Power, 

And all that Beauty, all that Wealth e’er gave, 

Await alike the inevitable hour, 

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.” 
******* 

“ Sure ’tis a serious thing to die, my soul! 

What a strange moment it must be when near 
Thy journey’s end, thou hast the gulph in view ! 

That awful gulph no mortal e’er repassed 
To tell what’s doing on the other side. 

Nature runs back, and shudders at the sight. 

And every life-string bleeds at thought of parting.” 

But, blessed be God, Jesus hath died and robbed 
the monster of his sting ; Jesus hath died, and faith 
in Him can take away the terror—illumine the dark¬ 
ness of the dying hour ; faith in Him gives sweet 
submission to the will of God, without whose per¬ 
mission death hath no power. 

Woman, sister, as surely as Miriam died, so surely 
you must die ! But 0, be a Christian, a true Chris¬ 
tian ! Entwine the sweet affections of your heart 
around the cross of Jesus, which was stained with 
blood for your redemption; and then, timid and fear¬ 
ful though you may be, when the dread hour comes, 
as come it will, when you must bid adieu to all you 



MIRIAM. 


131 


love on earth, as Miriam did, calm peace shall over¬ 
shadow with its white wing your pallid frame, and 
you shall he able to say to your own soul— 

“ Vital spark of heavenly flame, 

Quit, 0, quit this mortal frame ; 

Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, sighing, 

0, the pain, the bliss of dying! 

Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife, 

And let me languish into life.” 



KUTH 


|oung 


ibijfo. 


Ruth 1: 14. “ Orpah kissed^ Tier mother-in-law, but Ruth clave 

unto herJ^ 


We are constituted with an inherent love of 
variety. Monotones in music, similarity in scenery, 
sameness in thoughts or even in expressions, soon 
become wearisome. We enjoy what is new, fresh, 
different; hence we find that God, who formed our 
constitution, and created the world to meet its neces¬ 
sities, has given to it almost infinite variety. It is 
wonderful, that in nature there are no two blades of 
grass, nor vegetables, nor flowers, nor leaves, nor 
trees, nor hills, nor mountains, nor rivers, lakes, 
oceans, nor continents : there are no two human 
bodies, or faces, or minds, precisely alike. This fea¬ 
ture characterizes the climates, the seasons: it is 
not always spring, nor always summer, nor always 
autumn, nor always winter, but they come to us in 
beautiful succession— 




THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


133 


“ The year leads round the seasons, in a choir 
For ever charming and for ever new; 

Blending the grand, the beautiful, the gay, 

The mournful and the tender.” 

Their very diversity makes the whole year more de¬ 
lightful. Variety always and every where, meets 
our eye and ear ; even 

The gloomiest day hath gleams of light, 

The darkest wave hath light foam near it; 

And twinkles through the blackest night 
Some solitary star to cheer it.” 

Indeed this seems to be a necessity of our nature, 
as well as a desire. I have read some where that 
in Prussia, certain men were selected to sing par¬ 
ticular notes, on stated musical occasions, and the 
result.was, that they all died of bronchitis. This 
want of our nature is not only met in God’s works, 
but in His Word. Truth is here presented in every 
possible ‘form, from the severest logical statement to 
the loftiest poetical imagery : by means of history, 
biography, conversations, psalms, sermons, prayers, 
prophecies. 

Does it not occur to you now, how various are the 
types of female character made prominent in the 
Bible ? Think of those we have already con¬ 
sidered. How different in some respects was Eve 
from Sarah ; and Sarah from Rebecca ; and Rebecca 
from Jochebed ; and Jochebed from Miriam ! and 
the type of womanhood before us to-day, is still dif- 



134 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ferent from them all. Connected with this one we 
shall find no tragic elements; no terrific scenery ; 
no gory war incidents ; no family dissensions, hut a 
character of singular simplicity and beauty, moving 
in some of the dearest social relations, amid quiet 
scenes of country life. 

You will allow me to say here, once for all, that 
I do not expect to interest you equally in each of 
these lectures. Your sense of justice, as well as 
kindness towards myself, will cause you to notice, in 
some instances, far more abundant and striking ma¬ 
terial is given than in others. You will not expect 
me to make points of interest where there are none. 
You will therefore judge of my efforts, not by com¬ 
paring one lecture with another, but by what is done 
with the material afforded in each instance. For, 
remember, I stand on this holy day, in this conse¬ 
crated temple, at this sacred altar, not to tickle your 
ears with curious novelties, but simply to excite your 
interest in the Bible, and practically to do you good, 
by depicting the biographies Grod has left on record, 
and evolving the practical instructions they embody. 
We shall find that the incidents in different lives 
are as different as their characters : some stirring 
and tragical, others quiet and unexciting. As be¬ 
fore hinted, Kuth belongs to the latter class ; how¬ 
ever, in contemplating scenes in nature, or on the 
canvass, we sometimes experience more pleasure, 
and receive more profit from viewing peaceful 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


135 


landscapes, sleeping in the soft rays of the setting 
sun, than we do from gazing at beetling crags and 
lowering storm .clouds, warring armies, roaring cata¬ 
racts, or tempest-swept oceans hurling their surg¬ 
ing mountains skyward. 

I shall aim at presenting 

The facts of this narrative^ their development 
of the special providence of God, and of certain 
traits of female character. 

This book, which hears the name of Kuth, merely 
considered as a literary production, has been the 
admiration of literary men in all ages. Even Vol¬ 
taire, whose masterly mind was filled with preju¬ 
dice against the Bible, and whose heart was full of 
malignity against our Saviour, insomuch that his 
blasphemous motto, indicative of his life purpose, 
was, Crush the wretch even he declared that 
the book of Euth was a gem in Oriental history.^' 
An English author of celebrity once proposed to a 
company of lords and ladies, who knew more about 
almost any other book than they did about the 
Bible, to entertain them by reading a story of pas¬ 
toral life—a work, he intimated—of rare merit. 
Substituting fictitious names, he read them the book 
of Euth. They were delighted with the beautiful 
simplicity of the truthful narrative, and passed the 
highest encomiums on the heroine, her decision, af¬ 
fection, modesty and piety. All were anxious to 



136 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


learn the name of the author, who, they affirmed, 
could grace any circle of literature and fashion : 
hut they were confounded and amazed when told 
that this narrative of surprising beauty was found 
in the neglected Word of God. Fiction, with its 
wondrous power, as developed by ancient or modern 
novelists, has never produced a tale so truthful, 
combining so many points of interest as this, which, 
while it awakens the heart's deepest emotions, leaves 
on the mind no stain that could soil an angel's 
purity. 

Before we consider it, however, we must look at 
the Jewish history, from the point where we left it 
in our last lecture, up to where this begins. We 
left it at the deaths of Miriam, Aaron and Moses, 
all of whom died during one year. Shortly after 
that the Israelites entered into the land of Canaan 
and took possession of it, in the name of God, who 
had given it to them by covenant with their fathers. 
They were then a nation and needed a national gov¬ 
ernment for the maintenance of law and order ; a 
government was established ; God himself was their 
king, and judges were appointed to be His execu¬ 
tives. Such men as Joshua, Caleb, Ehud, Barak 
Gideon, Abimeleck, and Shamgar, held this office in 
succession. After Joshua, the duties of these men 
were, in some respects, similar to those of our cir¬ 
cuit judges ; he had regular circuit appointments at 
Gilgal, Mizpeh, and Ramah, where he administered 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


137 


the laws. This form of government lasted four 
hundred years. It was during it that the scenes re¬ 
corded in the book of Euth occurred. 

We are first introduced to a leading man of the 
tribe of Judah, Elimeleck, whose family consisted of 
his wife, Naomi, and two sons, Chilion and Mahlon. 
In consequence of a severe famine which devastated 
Judea, this family removed to the Gentile country 
of Moab, situated in the north-east part of Arabia, 
Petrea, which was separated from Palestine by the 
Dead Sea and the river Amaron, a branch of the 
Jordan. Shortly after their settlement a heavy af¬ 
fliction befell the family ; Elimelech, the revered 
husband and father, died in the land of the stranger, 
leaving Naomi a sad widow, far away from the home 
of her youth, the sympathy of her kindred and the 
sepulchres of her fathers. But in her affliction still 
her two sons were left her ; noble young men they 
doubtless were, who did all they could to fill their 
fathePs place, and soothe the grief-stricken heart of 
their widowed mother. Subsequently both of them 
were married to Moahitish young women; the 
name of one of the wives was Orpah, that of the 
other Euth. We may easily conceive of the happi¬ 
ness of that family circle, where love hounrj heart to 
heart; and where the noble Naomi—whose name 
means amiable''—in all the depths of her maternal 
fondness, and wealth of her long experience, was the 
presiding genius. 



138 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


But alas for the frailty of human joys ! a cloud 
darker than before is gathering over that happy 
household ; that united family circle is again to be 
broken by the ruthless hand of the destroyer. All 
unconscious is that poor widow, as she looks with a 
widow's tenderness and pride on her orphan sons, 
of the agony which is soon to wring her heart. All 
unconscious are Ruth and Orpah, those young wives 
—rejoicing in the love of their young husbands, 
while, by soft words and kind attentions, they try to 
make their mother-in-law forget the sad loneliness 
of her widowhood—that soon, in all their fresh love¬ 
liness they are to become widows themselves, and 
experience an agony of which they never dreamed 
before. But soon, alas ! alas ! remorseless death 
came, where he had before left the print of his cold 
skeleton foot, and bore away from mother, wife and 
cherished home, both of the young husbands, to the 
land of silence and gloom. Who shall tell of the 
bitter sorrow and desolation of Naomi, Orpah and 
Ruth, as entwining their arms around each other, 
each herself a widow, they mingle their lamentations 
and their tears. It was natural, that in these circum-. 
stances of destitution, the thoughts of Naomi should 
turn westward, to the home of her youth. Ten years 
have rolled away since she left it a happy wife and 
mother, to come with husband and children to the 
land of the Gentile. Now they are all, all dead.; 
and how natural it was that she should decide to 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


139 


return to Judea, where she hears that prosperity 
abounds. Her decision is formed ; her daughters- 
in-law will accompany her to her father-land. It is 
easy to fancy these three widows, who are about to 
leave forever the graves of their companions, before 
departing, visiting those resting places of the dead, 
and moaning mournfully there their sad farewell. 

They commenced their long and weary journey 
westward ; they had not gone far, however, before 
Naomi suddenly stopped in the path. A new 
thought has forcibly struck her—why should she 
involve these two young women in her cheerless 
destiny they were Moabites ; they were therefore 
going from their native land, from the scenes of their 
youth into a strange land, among a strange people. 
It would seem that Naomi had not thought of this 
before ; but as soon as she does think of it, her 
noble generosity rises above her grief, and she 
says unto her daughters-in-law, go, return each 
to your mother’s house : the Lord deal kindly with 
you, as ye have dealt with the dead and with me. 
The Lord grant you that ye may find rest, each of 
you, in the house of her husband."' Then she kissed 
them, and they lifted up their voice and wept, and 
replied, Surely we will return with thee unto thy 
people." But Naomi said, “ Turn again, my daugh¬ 
ters : why will ye go with me Turn again, go 

your way and ‘‘ they lifted up their voice and 
wept again." And Orpah kissed her mother-in- 
law, but Euth clave unto her." 



140 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Many days afterwards there was an unusual ex¬ 
citement in the little city of Bethlehem-Judah. Two 
lonely females, with travel-soiled garments, entered 
it : the one dignified and matronly, hut with sad 
and wan countenance : the other young and beau¬ 
tiful, even in her widow's garb. The city is moved 
by the report that Naomi, whom the elders well re¬ 
member, has returned : but in reply to their con¬ 
gratulations, sadly, and 0, how eloquently ! the 
aged widow said, Call me not Naomi, call me 
Mara, for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with 
me. I went out full, but the Lord hath brought 
me back empty ; why then call me Naomi, seeing 
the Lord hath testified against me, and the Almighty 
hath afflicted me." How affecting is this picture ! 
There are those here to-day, who know the bit¬ 
terness of Naomi's grief, for they have tasted it 
themselves : they know the heart of a widow, for they 
themselves have been widowed ; they know what 
it is to return to their childhood's home, pale, lonely 
and sad, and even when made welcome there, to ex¬ 
claim, The Lord hath dealt bitterly with me." 

Next we are introduced to a mighty man of 
wealth," kinsman to Naomi, who is a noble specimen 
of a pious, rich, country gentleman. He has exten¬ 
sive barley and wheat fields. It is now harvest time. 
A fine scene it is, indeed, recorded in the second 
chapter. Boaz, going out into the fields, exclaimed 
to his reapers, The Lord bless you," and the stal¬ 
wart men, hearing the well-known voice of their 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


141 


leader, unitedly replied, “ The Lord bless thee.^' 
The interest of the scene deepens as Boaz, perceiv¬ 
ing a strange young woman gleaning behind the 
reapers, inquires, ‘‘ Whose damsel is this ?” He is 
told that it is the Moabitess damsel who came back 
with Naomi. Kindly he addresses her, telling her 
to glean in no other field but his, and assuring her 
of his protection. Ruth is overwhelmed by his kind¬ 
ness, and asks, Why have I found grace in thine 
eyes, that thou shouldst take knowledge of me, see¬ 
ing that I am a stranger Boaz magnanimously 
replies—and what a beautiful eulogium he pro¬ 
nounced upon her, It hath been fully shown me 
all that thou hast done to thy mother-in-law since 
the death of thy husband : and how thou hast left 
thy father and thy mother, and the land of thy 
nativity, and art come unto a people which thou 
knewest not heretofore.^" And then, pious man 
that he was, he stretched his hands over her lovely 
head, and looking heavenward, pronounced upon her 
this benediction : The Lord recompense thy work, 
and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God 
of Israel, under whose wdng thou hast come to 
trust."" Having charged the reapers to give her 
food, and to drop some handfulls of barley on pur¬ 
pose for her, he returned to Bethlehem ! 

Joyfully that night, laden with barley, Ruth re¬ 
turned to Naomi, and told her all that had occurred. 
The aged mother in Israel sees the hand of God in 



142 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


the matter: and understanding the law which God 
had given to the Jews, which made it the duty of 
an unmarried man to marry the widow of hivS de¬ 
ceased kinsman, she feels it to he her duty and pri¬ 
vilege to use customary means to secure the con¬ 
summation of this divine arrangement, between her 
beloved Ruth and Boaz; for Ruth's husband was his 
kinsman, and she saw it to be a strange providence 
that Boaz, though mature and wealthy, was still 
unmarried. The means she employed would be in¬ 
expedient now, but they were not then, because 
they were customary ; and in this case especially, 
met the divine approbation. I shall not attempt to 
conceal or pass over what occurred in the night, 
on the threshing floor, during the time of winnowing 
barley. But you must remember two things. 

First—That very much passed between Ruth and 
Boaz which is unrecorded, for Ruth was sure that he 
loved her, and that he was a pure, good man : and a 
pure woman is never afraid of a pure man ; her 
keen sensibility and delicate intuition makes her 
conscious of safety. 

Second—All that she did was in accordance with 
the direction of her stricken mother-in-law, whose 
noble soul, purified by the fires of affliction, as well 
as the grace of God, would have shrunk from advis¬ 
ing her pure daughter, to do any thing which could 
be at that time deemed improper, or even indelicate. 
Sustained by the law of God, and the customs of 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


143 


her people, she gave Ruth directions what to do. 
Night came. Boaz laid down and slept.* Ruth as 
directed by her mother-in-law laid down at his feet. 
At midnight, Boaz perceived a woman there, and 
asked, Who art thou While her heart fluttered 
like a frightened bird, and every nerve trembled, 
meekly she answered—I am Ruth, thine hand¬ 
maid ; thou art a near kinsman, therefore spread 
thy skirt over thine hand-maid.'' This last expres¬ 
sion is a Hebrew phrase in use, even at the present 
day. When a Jew marries a woman, he is said ^^to 
throw his skirt over her," indicating that he takes 
her as his wife, under his protection. The language 
of Ruth, therefore, was an appeal to Boaz to do 
what the Jewish law required that he should, take 
her, as the childless relict of his deceased kinsman, 
to be his wife. 

Perhaps, however, you feel that there was some¬ 
thing at least of unwomanly boldness in this : but 
circumstances will lead a pure woman to do any 
thing, that is not sin. Have you read that strange 
incident, which Alison the historian records, as 
having taken place during the Reign of Terror" 
n France ? How you would shudder to think of 
Irinking a goblet of human blood ! but he says that 
a mob had seized an old man and his daughter: 
they were about to murder him, but she plead so 
persistently for his life, that some one of those inhu¬ 
man monsters proposed that if she would drink a 



144 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


goblet of warm blood, her father might live. She 
assented ; and they brought the gory goblet—with 
her own hand she took the horrid cup—pressed it 
to her lips—drank its revolting contents. You 
shudder to think of it, but M’lle de Sombreuil did 
it, and saved her father's life ! Kemember the 
mightiness of the appeal to Kuth's heart. Her 
aged, poor, helpless, doting mother-in-law had ad¬ 
vised it. A long summer, with her own hands Kuth 
had supported them both : perchance she might not 
be able to do this always, and then what will become 
of them ? Now, she found springing up in her 
heart intense love for the man, who had befriended 
her in her poverty ; and always treated her with 
the tenderest delicacy : besides the law of a holy 
God gave her a claim on him, as her dead husband's 
kinsman, and therefore she did under those circum¬ 
stances, what she would not have done in yours, any 
sooner than would the purest and most delicate one 
among you all. Boaz himself bore testimony to her 
purity ; for gentleman that he was, he kindly said 
to the timid creature, who trembled at his feet, 
fear not, for ail the city of my people know that 
thou art a virtuous woman." Laden with the bar-, 
ley he gave her, she returned home. Shrewdly the 
old mother, after hearing of the incidents of the 
night, said to her now pale-faced and anxious daugh¬ 
ter, Be calm and quietfor the man will not 
be in rest, until he have finished the thing this day." 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


145 


And sure enough, that very day, Boaz having ob¬ 
tained from a kinsman nearer than himself the right, 
publicly gave his hand to the beautiful woman, who 
already had his heart: and before the elders and all 
the people at the public gate he said, Ye are my 
witnesses this day that I have taken Kuth, the Mo- 
ahitess, the widow, to be my wife.^' The married 
life of Ruth was unclouded. The last days of Naomi 
were full of calm joy ; for when, the following year, 
Ruth's first-born son was laid in Naomi's bosom, the 
women of Israel congratulated her saying, Blessed 
be the Lord which hath not left thee this day with¬ 
out a kinsman, who shall be a restorer of thy life, 
and a nourisher of thine old age." 

We are now prepared to pass to the second general 
object of this lecture, which is to consider briefly the 
developments of the special providence of God, pre¬ 
sented in this narrative. 

As a preliminary matter, I ask you to remember 
one great fact. God had purposed to give, not to 
the Jew only, but to the Gentile, a Saviour. It 
was important, therefore, that in the humanity of 
that Saviour, there should he Gentile hlood as well 
as Jewish. Up to this period, the line from which 
Christ should descend had been purely Jewish. See 
what occurs. A famine comes on Judea : driven 
by it a Jewish family go to the land of the Gentile 
Moab ; a Jewish son marries a Gentile maiden ; he 
dies ; the Jewish widow brings back with her to 



146 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Judea the young Gentile widow. There Ruth mar¬ 
ries Boaz —in their son Jewish and Gentile hlood 
commingle —that son was Ohed ; the father of Jesse, 
who was the father of David—the regal progeni¬ 
tor of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Thus 
you behold, the Gentile widow, the sweet gleaner 
of the barley fields of Bethlehem, the great-grand¬ 
mother of Israel's minstrel king, and one of the an¬ 
cestors of the world's Redeemer, who was the root 
and offspring of David, the bright and the morning- 
star, whose hallowed radiance will yet fill the world 
with peace and glory. 

Eleven hundred and eighty-six years from the 
birth of the son of Ruth, Jesus was born. Where ? 
at Bethlehem. What Bethlehem ? This very one 
to which Naomi and Ruth came in their poverty ; 
this one where Boaz and Ruth were married, lived, 
and died. Perchance on the very fields where Ruth 
gleaned after the reapers, the shepherds watched 
their flock by night ; 

“ When such music sweet, 

Their hearts and ears did greet, 

As never was by mortal finger struck 

where an angel proclaimed the advent annunciation 
—Unto you is born this day, in the city of David, 
a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord and the 
chorus of unearthly voices melodiously hymned the 
Advent Anthem, Glory to God in the highest, and 
on earth peace, good will toward men." 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


147 


As from the small acorrij flung far from its parent 
bough by the heedless wind, comes the majestic oak, 
whose great branches brave the assaults of an hun¬ 
dred winters ; even so out of apparently insignifi¬ 
cant events, such as those we have contemplated 
to-day, comes forth by the decree of divine Provi¬ 
dence great results afiecting the destiny of the world 
and the glory of God. Now see the connection of 
Jews and Gentiles in the history of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, in whose humanity both Jew and Gentile 
blood commingled. Who first sought the infant 
Saviour ? Not Jews, but wise Gentiles from the 
east. And through his ministry, while its great 
mission was to Jews, Gentiles “ did eat of the crumbs 
that fell from His table.’’ The former conspired 
against him, clamored for his blood, but the Gentile 
Pilate condemned him to death, and Eoman soldiers 
crucified him. In His last command, before His 
ascension. He bade the disciples go preach to all 
nations,” beginning at Jerusalem. At the great re¬ 
vival in Jerusalem, after Peter’s sermon, Gentiles 
from remote and various parts as well as Jews be¬ 
came the trophies of gospel grace. Thus, as in the 
humanity of Jesus, Jewish and Gentile blood min¬ 
gling made one body : so in his earthly history both 
were concerned, both participated in his death, and 
by his atoning work, he hath broken down the 
middle wall of partition between Jew and Gentile, 
and made both one in himself” 



148 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Just here, I wish to call your attention to a strange 
fact. 

We are all accustomed to speak of Kuth as a 
beauty. She is called, Kuth the beautiful,” and 
you never saw an artist's ideal of this young widow, 
which was not as exquisite as his skill could make 
it: but who ever told the world that Ruth was phy¬ 
sically beautiful ? I confess my own surprise that 
the book which bears her name no where says that 
she was. The Bible speaks of beautiful females—it 
says of Sarah and Kebecca, that they were exceed¬ 
ingly fair but no where are we told that Ruth 
had a fair face, or splendid figure, or soft beaming 
eyes, or gentle-toned voice ; and yet, these are 
ascribed to her by all. Indeed in Literature this 
young widow stands the very impersonation of the 
loveliest type of physical womanhood. Still in her 
biography there is not the first allusion to her per¬ 
sonal appearance. Why then has the world pro¬ 
nounced her beautiful ? Ah, the answer to this 
question embodies a lesson to every female present. 
It is because of the exceeding beauty of her charac¬ 
ter—her mind—her heart—her disposition—her life, 
that has led the race to pronounce her lovely, with¬ 
out ever asking, whether her skin was fair, her eyes 
bright, her hands delicate, or indeed any question 
concerning her person. So it is evermore—the 
highest type of beauty is never merely physical ; it 
is the outglearnings of internal virtues, of sweet 
graces of character. 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


149 


“ Aye, for the soul is better than its frame, 

The spirit than its temple. What’s the brow 
Or the eye’s lustre, or the step of air. 

Or color, but the beautiful links that chain 
The mind from its rare element. * * It sleeps beneath 
The outward semblance, and to common sight 
Is an invisible and hidden thing.” 

Where these moral and intellectual elements exist 
within a woman’s soul, they will give such a sweet 
radiance to her life, such an expression to her coun¬ 
tenance, that whatever may he her physical con¬ 
figurations, she will be lovely in the eyes of all, and 
most so in the eyes of those who know her best. 
Ah ! she has what will make her beautiful, when 
her dark hair shall be white with the snows of many 
winters : when the brightness of her eye shall be 
dimmed with tearful sorrows, the rose of her cheek 
faded, and the symmetry of her form gone. Young 
woman, may that treasure be yours. Bancroft, , in 
his late discourse before the New York Historical 
Society, said of such women, “ Her presence in this 
briery world, is as a lily among thorns.” You 
will now be more interested to proceed with me, in 
the prosecution of the remaining object before us, 
which is to develope the traits of ButVs character. 

1. She was unselfish. 

This is developed in the whole record of her life, 
from the moment we are introduced to her in Moab, 
until the narrative leaves her in Bethlehem, the hap¬ 
py wife of Boaz, the joyful mother of Obed. No where 



150 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


do you see her laboring to promote her own interests 
at the expense of others, or decorating her own per¬ 
son out of the hard earnings of others. When on 
the road to Bethlehem, Naomi urged her to return 
to her blood kindred, with whom she might spend 
her days in plenteous peac/e ; with the dignity of 
the highest benevolence she refused, and voluntarily 
identified her fortunes with those of her poor mother- 
in-law, who was returning penniless to Judea ; and 
who felt herself to be, like the blasted fig-tree, 
scathed, withered, and fruitless. And at Bethle¬ 
hem, instead of seeking companions of her own age, 
with whom to enjoy herself, she devoted her energies 
to the support of Naomi, and with her own hands 
earned their daily bread. 

Selfishness is a mean, low quality in any one : 
but in woman it is especially to be deprecated. It 
deadens sweet sympathy, it shrivels up the affec¬ 
tions, and penetrates her whole nature with an icy 
coldness. It causes a woman to regard herself as 
the centre of her own universe, the sun of her own 
sphere, the idol of her own idolatry, and therefore 
makes her offensive in the sight of a benevolent God, 
ugly in the sight of all good men, in spite of a hand¬ 
some face, an elegant attire, and unfit for the relations 
in life she was created to sustain. How terrible is 
the mistake those parents are making, who are con¬ 
stantly cherishing the selfishness of their daughters, 
by administering to their vanity, by loading them 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


151 


with finery, and exempting them from duties which 
they ought to discharge ? How many a mother 
makes herself a slave, in order to make her daughter 
a lady ; wears out her own energies in order that 
her daughter may loll away her time in laziness, 
and waste her sympathies over the sickly senti¬ 
mentalism of a shilling novel ! And what a lady 
such a girl makes ! A man who has regard for his 
future peace and prosperity, had better marry a 
great doll, on whose India-rubber face the red and 
white paint legitimately belong, than marry her : 
for what can humanity expect of a selfish wife, a 
cold-hearted selfish mother ? 

2. Another characteristic of Ruth was the strength 
and depth of her love for Naomi. 

I do not know where can be found in the annals 
of any literature, a picture so afiectingly beautiful 
as that which is here presented, (to which I have be¬ 
fore alluded) of the three widows, when suddenly they 
stopped on their way to Bethlehem. I do not won¬ 
der that it has been the admiration of all genera¬ 
tions, who have gazed upon it. With a slight ef¬ 
fort your imaginations may reproduce it. You see 
Naomi with the lines age had already drawn upon 
her face, worn still deeper now by grief. On one 
side stands the fair Orpah, on the other the gentle 
Ruth. Sadly and tremulously Naomi says, G-o, 
my daughters, return each to your mother's house," 
ftnd then, while big tears gushed from her dimmed 



152 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


eyes, slie stretches forth her emaciated hands toward 
each, and adds—The Lord deal kindly with you 
as ye have dealt with the dead and with me.'' At 
first both refuse to return ; then Naomi reasons 
with them—she tells them she is aged, childless, 
and poor; that in their own homes, among their 
own kindred, there were those who would cherish 
them, while herself, a lonely widow, could promise 
them nothing in the land of her fore-fathers. Both 
of them wept; Orpah went hack, but Ruth stood 
still. Naomi, turning to her said, Behold thy 
sister-in-law has gone back to her people ; return 
thou after her." She might as well have spoken to 
the rock by the way-side, as thus to the gentle, 
loving, weeping one beside her ; whose tender feel¬ 
ings a word could move, but whose affections were 
as immovable as the everlasting hills. She would 
have stood abashed before one wicked, impertinent 
look, but for the mother she loved, she could face 
misfortune in its direct form, unappalled. She was 
fragile as the bending willow, but in her true love, 
she was as firm as the rooted oak. 0, what a pic¬ 
ture of the loveliness of true affection and generous 
magnanimity is before us ! When casting no blame 
upon Orpah, she fiings her white arms around 
Naomi's neck, and weepingly exclaims, ^‘Entreat 
me not to leave thee, or to return from following 
after thee ; for whither thou goest, I will go ; and 
where thou lodgest, I will lodge thy people shall 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


153 


be my people, thy Grod my God/' And it arises to 
positive sublimity, when she adds—“ Where thou 
diest, will I die, and there will I be buried ; the 
Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught hut death 
part thee and me/’ Glorious woman ! I wonder 
not that heaven’s richest henizons were on thee 
during thy life ; and that ever since thy death, thy 
name hath been a fragrance to the world, and thy 
character a model for thy sex ! 

Such affection is its own exceeding great re¬ 
ward,” and it always is recompensed in the admira¬ 
tion of men and the favoring providences of God, 
though for a season it may lead its possessor into 
obscurity, yea, even into toilsome poverty; the 
dark shades of night’s sorrow may overshadow her, 
but the morning shall dawn, and joy come with it. 
Especially ought such affection ever to he cherished 
for the aged. Doubtless it was Ruth’s sympathy 
for the age and infirmities of Naomi, that gave 
energy and decision to her love. Such circum¬ 
stances always present a mighty claim to the young : 
and yet, alas, how many an aged mother pines, amid 
destitution and loneliness, whose declining years are 
embittered by the criminal neglect of daughters she 
has cherished. 

3. Industry was another characteristic of Ruth. 

Remember, when she decided to accompany 
Naomi, she well knew that the support of both of 
them was to depend on her energies alone. Hence, 



154 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


as soon as they arrived at Bethlehem she proposed 
to Naomi—Let me now go to the field and glean 
ears of corn after him in whose sight I shall find 
grace and she went forth, an humble gleaner in 
the harvest-field—an occupation peculiar to the 
poorest of the poor. But did she lower herself, in 
your oj)inion, by doing so ? Kemember, she had 
known better days—she had been delicately nur¬ 
tured in the land of Moah—she had moved in the 
circles of ojDulence, admired and caressed for her 
beauty and virtue. But see, with what true woman's 
energy she adapts herself to the condition in which 
her unselfish love has placed her. She has health, 
she has decision of character, but she has no false 
pride—no foolish ideas of mock dignity ; hers is not 
that affection which wastes itself in words ; not that 
devotion which expends itself in sentimental tears, 
hut does nothing for its object. Nay ! had you seen 
Kuth returning from the field at even-tide, singing 
some sweet song of her far-off native land, hearing 
in her own arms the fruit of her day's toil to Naomi, 
you had seen golden rays from that sinking oriental 
sun encircling her head ; beams of conscious use¬ 
fulness glancing from her dark eyes ; the rose on her 
cheek deepened to its richest Vermillion, and her 
modest tread, illustrative of the firmness of a true 
woman in, adversity. ) What a model is she for the 
young of her sex ! Too many young females of the 
present day, have gotten the idea that labor is un- 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


155 


fe-dylike—that true delicacy consists in soft, tiny 
white hands and ignorance of work. What Jesus 
said of the lilies is emphatically true of them— 
they toil not, neither do they spin all they eat 
and wear is the product of others labor. And how 
often such do-nothings in modern society look with 
haughty contempt on the pure girl who supports 
herself, and contributes to the support of her familyy' 
An American poet hath described one such : 


“ Harkl that rustle of a dress 
Stiff with lavish costliness; 

Here comes one whose cheek would blush 
But to have her garments brush 
’Gainst the girl whose fingers thin 
Wove the weary ’broidery in, 

And in midnight chill and murk, 

Stitched her life into the work; 

Bending backward from her toil 
Lest her tears the silk might soil; 

Shaping from her bitter thought, 

Heart’s ease and forget-me-not, 

Satarizing her despair 

With the emblem’s woven there.” 


0, unknown to the great world, but known to 
the great God, and to some of us, in this city, there 
are noble, heroic, young women who, Ruth-like, are 
living to purpose ; devoting their energies to poorly 
paid toil, but on whom is resting the benedictions of 
heaven. Blessed, noble sisterhood ! true heroines 
of humanity 1 Let a brother’s voice and a pastor's 
sympathy cheer ye on amid a proud world's neglect. 



156 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


God^s noble women are ye ! when your lifers toil¬ 
some day shall he over, ye shall sleep sweetly, and 
in the morning ye shall hear the plaudit, ^‘^Well 
done, good and faithful servant,"' from your elder 
brother, who in the days of His flesh sanctified toil 
by the labor of His own hands. 

Industry is as honorable in women as in men. It 
was the pride of Augustus Csesar that his imperial 
robes were wrought by the hands of his wife, sister 
and daughter. Alexander the Great, when advis¬ 
ing the mother of Darius, to teach her nieces to imi¬ 
tate the Grecian ladies in spinning wool, showed her 
his own garments, which were made by his sister. 
The virtuous Lucretia worked with her maidens at 
the spinning wheel; and Tanaquil, the wife of Tar- 
quin, wrought woollen robes so well, that long after 
her death her spinning instruments, together with 
a robe of her manufacture, were hung up in the 
Temple of Fame, as an example for Homan maids 
«nd matrons. This virtue is both commended and 
ommanded in the Bible. 



4. The last and crowning characteristic here de¬ 
veloped, is the piety of Ruth. 

She was not only unselfish, not only strong in her 
disinterested love, not only a patient worker, but a 
pious woman. Though born and nurtured amid the 
idolatry of Moab, she abandoned her idol gods and 
became a worshipper of Jehovah. In all that land 
there was but one family that worshipped God— 



THE YOUNG WIDOW. 


157 


that family was Naomi’s, and it shone there like a 
lamp in a sepulchre of gloom. With that family 
she became allied ; from them she learned of God; 
with them she bowed in worship. She had never 
seen the tabernacle with its sacred mysteries ; she 
had never beheld the skekinah, luminous with Deity, 
resting on the mercy-seat; she had never heard the 
deep tones of the thousands of Israel as they 
hymned the praises of Jehovah : but from Naomi’s 
lips she had heard the sacred truth, and in Naomi’s 
character she had seen exemplified its hallowing ef¬ 
fect ! Thus her young heart was won, and she laid 
its beautiful affections on Jehovah’s altar. Hence, 
with all the intense earnestness of her nature, she 
said to Naomi, though full well she knew that trou¬ 
bles were before her, and that bitter waters of af¬ 
fliction might drench her shivering form on her way 
to Canaan, ‘^Thy people shall be my people, thy 
God my God.” Eeligion imparted its highest sub¬ 
limity to her character, and like the morning star 
glittering above the horizon, foretold the day of 
gladness which should succeed the night of her sor¬ 
rows.” Therefore it was, when Boaz blessed her in 
the field he did so in the name of the God under 
whose wing she had come to trust.” 

0, young woman ! is the God of Naomi and of 
Euth thine ? How much more you know about 
Him than they did. They had no Bible—full of the 
revealments of the goodness, love and mercy of the 



158 


EEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Great Father—you have. To them God had never 
been manifest in the flesh—to you he has—as a 
Saviour from sin—an example of duty—the sup¬ 
porter in trial—the victor over death—the opener 
of heaven. Kuth had but one example of piety 
before her, you have had many. Have you made 
the choice that Euth made ? If you have, then 
cleave to Him ; as a true-hearted, loving daughter 
of Zion, say ye to her, Entreat me not to leave 
thee,'" for where thou goest, I will go;" thy God 
shall be my God." If you have not, I beseech you 
by all His tender mercies, by the blood-streaming 
cross of Calvary, by the sacred Spirit that strives 
with you, to seek Him now, bow before Him, and 
dedicate your life to Him. Hear now the voice of 
thy Father, “ Hearken, 0 daughter, and consider, 
and incline thine ear, forget also thine own people 
and thy father's house, so shall the king greatly de¬ 
sire thee, for He is the Lord thy God, worship thou 
Him." 



ENDOR’S WITCH 


®lje Jfemalt SgiritiiaUsl. 


1 Sam: 28: 7. “ Behold there is a woman that hath a familiar spirii 
at Endor.^* 

“ Since we have spoken of witches,” said Lord Byron, “ what 
think you of the witch of Endor ? I have always thought this 
the finest and most finished witch scene that ever was written 
or conceived, and you will be of my opinion if you consider all 
the circumstances of the actors of the case, together with the 
gravity, simplicity, and density of the language. It beats all 
the ghost scenes I ever read.”— Kennedy's Conversations with 
Byron. 

The subject of this lecture has been chosen, not 
because of any novelty that may pertain to it : but 
because it is deemed essential to the completeness 
of our course. In previous lectures we have grouped 
the Bible history thus far, around six female repre¬ 
sentative characters. In our lecture on Eve, we 
glanced at the chief events of the first two thousand 
years, during which she was the only prominent wo- 




160 


REPEESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


man. In our second, on Sarah, we traced the his¬ 
tory from the exodus of Abram from Chaldea, to his 
settlement and death in Canaan ; a period of about 
two hundred years. In our third, on Eehecca, we 
traced it to the removal of her son Jacob and his 
family into Egypt. In our fourth, on Jochebed, we 
continued the history up to the birth of Moses : a 
period of one hundred and fifty years. In our fifth, 
on Miriam, we followed it during the remaining 
eighty-five years Israel was in the house of bondage, 
and continued it until the death of Moses, on the 
borders of the promised land. In our sixth, on Euth, 
we glanced at the Jewish history during the four 
hundred years that they were presided over by the 
Judges. We have now arrived, therefore, at the 
record of the reign of Saul, who was their first king. 
In this part of Bible history, no female stands out 
so prominently as the Witch of Endor. This fact 
renders it my duty to make her the leading object 
of this lecture : a duty, the difficulties of which I 
deeply feel; and to which I address myself with 
diffidence, but without shrinking. 

In this record three names are presented to us ; 
those of Samuel, Saul, and the Witch. Let us glance 
at these in their order. 

Samuel, you will remember, was one of the last 
of the Judges. His history is one of the purest, 
noblest, on any record. He was the son of the pious 
Hannah ; who took him to the tabernacle at Shiloh, 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


161 


with a thank-offering, and said to Eli the priest, 
while she held the beautiful child in her arms, ^^For 
this child I prayed, and the Lord hath given me my 
petition which I asked of him : therefore also have 
I lent him to the Lord, as long as he liveth he shall 
be lent to the Lord/' Thus, pious mother that she 
was, she dedicated her child to God. He remained 
in the tabernacle, and spent his youth and early 
manhood in its sacred services. Subsequently he 
was elevated to the Judgeship of Israel, and admin¬ 
istered the laws during twenty years, so as to meet 
the approbation of God, and promote the highest 
interests of the people. He was also honored with 
the gift of prophecy : so that he was not only a civil 
Judge, but a spiritual Guide. Moreover he presided 
over the school of the prophets at Kamah, with dig¬ 
nity and success. When old, he appointed his sons 
Judges. They, however, walked ^^not in his ways, 
but turned aside after lucre, and took bribes, and 
perverted judgment." Israel dissatisfied, and influ¬ 
enced by the example of other nations, demanded a 
king. This was painful to Samuel, and offensive to 
God ; for he said to His aged servant, while smart¬ 
ing under the ingratitude of the people, They have 
not rejected thee, but rejected me from reigning 
over them." The Prophet Judge anointed their 
new king, and while he lived was by his side as a 
living conscience. He died at the age of ninety- 
eight : but before his death he assembled all Israel 



162 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


at Gilgal, to hear his farewell address. It was a 
grand scene. Before the gathered thousands, the 
aged man, with white flowing locks, venerable form, 
and voice tremulous with solemn emotion, arose to 
make his final speech. It is recorded in the twelfth 
of his first Book. I commend it to you. Do not 
fail to read it. I can only quote a few verses. And 
Samuel said unto all Israel, Behold, I have heark¬ 
ened unto your voice in all that ye said unto me, 
and have made a king over you. And now behold, 
the king walketh before you : and I am old, and 
gray-headed, and behold, my sons are with you : 
and I have walked before you from my childhood 
unto this day. Behold, here I am, witness against 
me before the Lord, and before his anointed: 
whose ox have I taken ? or whose ass have I taken ? 
or whom have I defrauded ? whom have I oppress¬ 
ed ? or of whose hand have I received any bribe to 
blind mine eyes therewith? and I will restore it 
you.^' How exalted the eulogium on his character, 
conveyed in the response of the people—^^Thou 
hast not defrauded us, nor oppressed us, neither 
hast thou taken aught of any man's hand." Soon 
after this he died, and was buried with national 
pomp at Kamah, and all Israel made lamentation 
over him. In all the annals of the G-entile world, 
no character so nearly resembles his, as the Grecian 
Aristides—surnamed the Just : who after holding 
high place of trust, was condemned to exile by his 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


163 


own countrymen, and died in poverty, but with an 
unsullied fame. 

The next person named in the record before us is 
Saul. Glance we at his history. He was the son 
of Kish, a mighty man of power.^^ Of young Saul 
it is said, He was a choice young man, and a 
goodly.'^ And this is recorded of his personal ap¬ 
pearance : There was not among the children of 
Israel a goodlier person than he ; from his shoulders 
and upwards he was higher than any of the people.^* 
Endowed with extraordinary intellectual power, in 
addition to his physical superiority, he was extreme¬ 
ly popular ; and to the eye of the Jews, longing for 
a king, he was their very beau-ideal of royalty.— 
The account of Samuehs first interview with him in 
relation to the matter, is very interesting. We are 
told that when the aged prophet said to the noble 
youth, On whom is the desire of all Israel ? Is 
it not on thee and thy father's house ?" Saul heard 
it with marked modesty : for instead of eagerly 
seizing the crown held out before him, meekly he 
replied: Am I not a Benjamite, of the smallest 

of the tribes of Israel, and my family the least of 
all the families of the tribe of Benjamin ? Where¬ 
fore speakest thou so unto me Subsequently a 
national convention was held at Mizpeh, and he was 
chosen, by lot, to be the King of Israel. When the 
result was made known, the venerable prophet 
stood up with young Saul before the gathered re- 



164 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


presentatives of the nation, and said, pointing to 
the king, See ye whom the Lord hath chosen— 
that there is none among the people like him.^’— 
And the mighty crowd, swayed by tumultuous 
joy, shouted, God save the king \” He was then 
anointed by the prophet, and for a time was true 
to his God. During that period, as a king, he was 
wise in counsel, victorious in battle, popular at home, 
and honored abroad ; but a woful change came over 
him. Popularity pampered his pride ; gratified 
ambition made him self-conceited and self-reliant. 
He forsook God. He chafed at the faithful rebukes 
of Samuel, usurped the priestly functions of the 
prophet, and resolved on war without consulting 
God. Before his death, the faithful Samuel, then 
an old man, wearing a mantle, thus addressed him: 

Thou hast done foolishly. Thou hast not kept 
the commandments of thy God. Thou hast rebel¬ 
led, and rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft; there¬ 
fore, because thou has rejected the word of the 
Lord, therefore He hath rejected thee \” The king 
saw his faithful friend no more, for he was gathered 
to his fathers in Kamah. 

Months roUed on, but Saul was a changed man. 
He became morose, gloomy, and revengeful; inso¬ 
much, that with his own hand he endeavored to 
murder David, his son-in-law. He ordered Doeg 
to slay eighty-five priests of the Lord, and became 
BO utterly depraved that Jehovah, seeing that he 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


165 


was joined to his idols, let him alone/’ And then 
the Urim became dark ; prophets were silent, and 
dreams and visions disappeared. He was abandoned 
to his own heart, the heaviest curse that God can 
inflict on mortal. The remaining person brought 
before us in this record is the Witch. 

This woman belonged to that class of persons 
which has existed in aln?ost every age of the world, 
and are called by different names. In the Bible we 
have the following enumeration of different classes 
of these characters, the origin of whose arts is un¬ 
known, but whose highest developments were 
reached in Egypt, and from thence spread through 
the world. 

There was the user of divination a mode of 
gaining knowledge of future events, employed 
among the tribes of the south part of Palestine— 
Ezekiel 21 : 21 specifies three of the means they 
employed—arrows, sculptured images, and the en¬ 
trails of animals. The observer of timesf or of 
dreams, was another who, by this method, common 
in Egypt, Assyria, among the Israelites, and the 
Greeks and Komans, sought supernatural know¬ 
ledge. The enchanter,” or serpent charmer, v. 
Psalms 58:45; the witches” and sorcerers,' 
composed most dangerous classes in Canaan, and 
are so fearfully condemned in Ex. 7 : 11 ; 2 Kings 
9 : 22 ; Numb. 23 : 3 ; Jer. 27 : 9 ; Mic. 5 : 12. 
The charmer,” by the power of song—a method 



166 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


of soothing the nervous system, now used in the 
East—mentioned by Xenophon as common among 
the Greeks ; and according to 1 Sam. 16 : 23 and 
Ps. 58 : 6, were numerous among the Israelites.— 
Then there was the consulter of familiar spirits’’— 
the ventriloquist —alluded to by Pliny and the Latin 
scholiast—persons who exerted a nervous influence 
on boys, by causing them to look intently on vases, 
from which they seemed to call the spirits of the 
dead, while really they only spoke from their own 
abdomens. These are mentioned in Isa. 8 : 19, 
29 : 4. There was also the necromancer ” or 
consulter of departed spirits, referred to in Deut. 
18 : 11. And besides these, we And astrologers,” 
star-gazers, and monthly prognostications mentioned 
in Isaah 47 : 13. 

Now I beg you to observe the strange fact, that 
this Bible, which so many people now-a-days profess 
to think behind the age, still has grouped together 
all the forms of witchery, enchantment, divination, 
necromancy, &c., that the learned world yet knows 
of Observe the view of the character of these man¬ 
ifestations presented in the Bible. 

The reality of mysterious phenomena is admitted. 

It is stated that by means of these different 
methods, a real, mysterious influence was exerted, 
causing strange sounds, strange sights, and myste¬ 
rious results—as the changing of the magician’s rods 
in Egypt, were produced. And let any one study, in 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


167 


connection with the Bible, the history of Egyptian, 
Grecian, Koman and Indian magicians, soothsayers, 
jugglers and wonder-workers, and he will assuredly 
conclude, that the mysterious manifestations of the 
present day are still far behind what has been seen 
and heard in ancient and modern times, in other 
lands. For in almost every land and every age, the 
operation of these occult agencies has been witnessed 
and commented on by men most eminent in science 
and literature—^by Franklin and Hale, by Walter 
Scott, Salverte and Thompson, by Galen, Pliny and 
Cicero, by Plato, Socrates and Zoroaster, as well as 
by Moses, David and Isaiah, Luke and Paul. The 
admitted facts are no where ascribed to supernatu¬ 
ral agencies. Those causes are not always explained ; 
they are admitted to be mysterious, originating in 
the deep-hidden laws of nature, scientific skill and 
artful management, operating upon the nervous ele¬ 
ment in the physical constitution, and the supersti¬ 
tious element in human minds. 

But a third point in regard to the Bible view of 
this matter, is of immense importance, viz : that a 
resort to such means to obtain knowledge is every¬ 
where condemned. 

Isaiah vii: 19. And when they shall say unto 
you, seek unto them that have familiar spirits, and 
unto wizards that peep and that mutter : should 
not a people seek unto their God ? for the living to 
the dead Deut. xviii: 10, 11, 12. When 



168 


KEPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


thou art come to the land which the Lord thy God 
giveth thee, thou shalt not learn to do after the 
abominations of those nations. There shall not be 
found among you any one that maketh his son or 
his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth 
divination, or an observer of times, or an enchan¬ 
ter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with 
familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For 
all that do these things are an abomination unto the 
Lord : and because of these abominations the Lord 
thy God doth drive them out from before thee.” 
Lev. XX : 6. The soul that turneth after such as 
have familiar spirits, I will set my face against that 
soul, I will cast him off from his people 27. “ The 
man or woman that hath a familiar spirit shall surely 
be put to deafli.” Consult also xviii: 12, 14. 
Hosea iv : 11, 12. So in the New Testament, in 
the account of the rich man and of Lazarus, Jesus 
says, If they believe not Moses and the prophets, 
neither will they be persuaded, though one rose 
from the dead.” Now the woman at Endor belonged 
to one of the classes I have mentioned. She was a 
necromancer, who professed to be able to call up the 
spirits of the dead. Women of her class had marked 
peculiarities. They were generally advanced in 
years ; deeply versed in human nature ; acquainted 
with all the weaknesses, hopes and fears of the 
human heart; possessed of high nervous organiza¬ 
tions, great nervous and magnetic power. They 



TEH FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


169 


were also familiar with exciting drugs, and their 
mysterious effect on body and mind. Further, they 
were the keenest possible observers of men and pass¬ 
ing events. And I ask your attention to this fact— 
they were always wicked women, abandoned by their 
own sex, living alone, and devotees of the lowest 
forms of idolatry. Such was the one before us. 
Her very name indicates that she was a devotee of 
the god of Ador. 

Observe now, these necromantic women did not 
profess to call up the dead by the agency of Satan 
or of inferior demons : but by the power of their 
gods, who were their familiar spirits,’’ and who 
were idol gods, and therefore had no existence. 
Another fact to he remembered is, that these sor¬ 
cerers possessed the power of what the ancients called 
Engastrymysme, that is, the power of speaking from 
the stomach, or ventriloquism. Plinly says, that 
in the temple of Hercules, at Tyre, which was lo¬ 
cated in the very country where the Witch of 
Endor lived, on the border of the Mediterranean, 
there was a consecrated stone, out of which gods 
were said to arise, that is,, strange apparitions ap¬ 
peared, to which the attending priestess, by th 
power of ventriloquism, gave voice. 

The last and the highest power possessed by theso 
persons, to which I have now time to refer, was this, 
the capability of putting their minds at will, in such 

a connection with the minds of those io\o consulted 
8 



170 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


them, that they knew what was passing in their 
minds. This power, possessed by persons of a cer¬ 
tain nervous temperament, can be traced through 
all the records of the past. We call it animal mag¬ 
netism, clairvoyance, the nervous principle or psy¬ 
chology. It is demonstrated now, beyond a doubt, 
that by mysterious but purely natural influences, a 
person of a certain nervous organization can he 
'placed, at will, in such connection with another, 
similarly organized, that the mind of the latter will 
he open to that of the former—the former will feel, 
see, and know just what the latter feels, sees, knows ^ 
Let me give you a reliable fact. Eliot Warburton, 
Esq., one of the finest scholars of the age, in his 
book of travels, entitled “ The Crescent and the 
Cross,states, that at Cairo, he engaged a magician 
to visit him, who performed the following. A boy 
was called in, and, after some ado, was made to look 
intently into his own hand ; the magician gazed at 
him fixedly, working himself up into a great excite¬ 
ment ; at last he said the charm was complete, and 
told Warburton that any one he asked for would 
appear. He asked for Sir Henry Hardinge ;—the 
boy said He is here,'^ and described him correctly, 
as a little man in a black dress, white cravat, grey 
hair, and having hut one leg. Then W. asked for 
Lord E—n : the boy said, He is here,'' and des¬ 
cribed him accurately—as a long man, with green 
glasses, bending forward. Lablache and others were 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


171 


called, and appeared to the hoy, xolio had been placed 
in psychological connection with Warhurton by the 
magician, so that he saw what was in the consulter's 
mind. 

In the July number of the American Journal of 
Insanity, Dr. Bell, one of the most learned physiol¬ 
ogists and keenest investigators of the times, gives 
the results of his examinations of modern Spiritual 
phenomena.^' He treats the whole matter with can¬ 
dor, and affirms that the spirit theory must he given 
up, for after the most extensive investigation he is 
'satisfied that what the questioner hnoius, the (so 
called') spirits know ; and what the questioner does 
not know, the (so called) spirits are entirely igno¬ 
rant of”^^' 

The Witch of Endor had that power—as well as 
all others of her class—haggard, godless, abandoned 

* If any one wishes to examine this subject further, I refer 
him to the following works :— 

“ The Spiritual Medium,” by an anonymous author, who styles 
himself “ Traverse Oldfield,” published in Boston. I acknowledge 
my indebtedness to this work, and earnestly recommend it. 

“ Buyers’ Northern India,” 

“ Elements of Physiology,” by J. Muller, M. D,, translated from 
the German, by W. Baly, M. D, 

“ Philosophy of Mysterious Agents, Human and Mundane; or 
the Dynamic Laws and Relations of Man,” embracing the Natural 
Philosophy of Phenomena, styled “ Spiritual Manifestations,’' 
By E. C, Rogers, In five parts. No, 1, 1852, 

“ Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosoi)hy,” by Sir J, F, N 
Herschel. 



172 


EEPRESENTAnVE WOMEN. 


though she was. And the developments of this, 
before those who do not possess the power them¬ 
selves, and are ignorant of its existence, produce the 
same effect in modern that they did in ancient times. 
They are readily ascribed to the spirits of the dead. 

The first object of this lecture is now accomplish¬ 
ed. You have now before you Samuel, Saul, the 
Witch, and their individual callings and characters. 

We are now prepared to contemplate the scene in 
the record before us. Kemember, the faithful Samuel 
is long since dead, and gone to heaven. Kememher 
Sauhs condition. He is abandoned by God ; the 
blood of eighty-five murdered dead is on his hands. 
He has rejected God, and God has rejected him.— 
The hearts of Israel are alienated from him, in con¬ 
sequence of his unjust and cruel government, and 
are already entwined around young David, whom 
Samuel has long since anointed king ; and in whom 
Saul has long beheld a successful rival, and vainly 
sought to murder. He is morose, sad and gloomy. 
He eats no food, and has grown weak and pale. His 
ancient national foes, encouraged by the disordered 
state of his kingdom, flushed with hope, will attack 
him on the morrow. They have marched unresisted 
to the centre of his country, and as he has gazed 
upon them, he has trembled beneath the conscious 
certainty that he was doomed—lost—forsaken by 
man—abandoned by God. 

Night overshadows the earth : but not so black 



TnE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


173 


is its gloom, as the darkness that fills the soul of the 
miserable king. Of whom does he now remind you? 
Do you remember Shakspeare's Macbeth ? It would 
seem as if the immortal bard must have had the 
history of Saul before him, when he wrote that ter¬ 
rific tragedy. Think of the parallel between Saul, 
the king of Israel, and Macbeth, the king of Scot¬ 
land. Both arose from low stations. There was a 
time when neither of them ever dreamed of royalty. 
Both were men of mark, but treacherous and cruel. 
Both were warriors. Both were murderers of their 
own guests : Saul in purpose, was guilty of the mur¬ 
der of his guest, David; Macbeth in deed, for he 
imbued his hands in the blood of Duncan. Both 
were the cause of other murders; Saul bade Doeg 
kill eighty-five priests: Macbeth hired a villain to 
waylay and slay Banquo. Both hunted the inno¬ 
cent, and slew them because of jealous revenge : 
Macbeth slew the helpless wife and children of Mac¬ 
duff : Saul hunted like a bloodhound Abiather for 
favoring David. Both sought to cement their tot¬ 
tering thrones hy hlood. Both had evil spirits; 
the one in his own soul : the other, in the form of 
an ambitious, tempting, murderous wife. Both 
came into desperate straits. Both were pressed by 
armed foes. Both were abandoned by men and God. 
Both in their dire extremity resorted to witches ; 
Saul at gloomy Endor ; Macbeth on the blasted 
heath, amid thunder and lightning met the un¬ 
earthly hags— 



174 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


“ Black spirits and white, 

Red spirits and gray.” 

Both died unnatural and tragical deaths, by means 
of the same weapon—the sword. The heads of 
both were cut off as trophies. The injured Mac¬ 
duff bore in triumph the ghastly head of Macbeth ; 
and the Philistines, the day after the battle, cut off 
Saul’s head and put it upon the walls of Beth- 
eheban. 

Tracing this parallel no further, I must ask you 
to look at a difierent view. Starting from Mount 
Tabor, we go southward four miles, until we reach 
a ravine, deep-sunken, and buried now in dark 
shadows of overhanging woods. We pass down into 
the dismal shades, and in a dreary dwelling, near to 
which we see no human abode, we find Endor’s 
witch, a lonely hag, the dread of children and good 
women ; hedged around with a circle of evil rumors ; 
a wretched outcast from human society ; an outlaw, 
judged worthy of death by civil and divine govern¬ 
ments. The dead hour of midnight has arrived. 
She hath heard no sound save 

“The owl’s screech and the cricket’s cry.” 

But look at her ; she hears a noise ; it is the sound 
of approaching footsteps ; her sunken, keen black 
eyes dilate—she scarcely breathes—she knows that 
Saul has put to death all of her craft his officers 
could find, and now unknown steps are stealthily 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


175 


drawing near. A low knock is heard at her door : 
calmly she opens it, and a tall man, muffled up in 
his robe, enters, followed by two attendants. He 
asks, in a low voice, Bring me him up whom I 
shall name unto thee.'^ The keen woman suspects 
a snare, and replies, Thou knoweth that Saul 
hath cut off those who have familiar spirits, where¬ 
fore, then, layest thou a snare for my life, to cause 
me to die T' He assures her upon oath that he 
will not betray her. Her suspicions are allayed.— 
She fixes her magnetic gaze upon the pale face of 
the man before her, whose nerves are excited to 
the highest degree, and who, having eaten nothing 
that day or night, is a most admirable subject for 
psychological and magnetic operation—whose mind 
being wrought up to the intensest interest, his will 
being entirely submissive to hers, what modern me¬ 
dium could have wished for an easier subject to op¬ 
erate upon ? But mark: all is still as she gazes 
with her snaky eyes into his pale face—until the 
nervous and magnetic union between them is formed; 
and lo ! she sees all that is in his mind ! Kemem- 
ber, he came there to see Samuel. Eemember, the 
old man was in Saul’s mind, as he last saw him, 
with his venerable locks and mantle. Eemember, 
he was expecting to meet him, and therefore the 
moment the magnetic union is formed, and the wo¬ 
man sees what is in Saul’s mind, she exclaims, I 
see Samuel!” of course she did. She saw the oh- 



176 


llEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ject most prominent in his mind ; and then, imme¬ 
diately recognizing her consulter, she cries out with 
affright. At this point the mass of readers and 
commentators, in my honest judgment, have made 

mistake. 

They have thought that the certain evidence that 
Samuel really appeared, is found in the fright of 
the witch. I submit to you that this is an error ; 
for, remember, she was condemned to death by the 
law of the land. Eemember, she was suspicious of 
a snare as soon as she saw the three men, and would 
not proceed with her incantation until assured upon 
oath of her safety. Eemember, that of no man on 
earth had she such cause to be afraid as of Saul ; 
for the law condemning witches had been a dead 
letter until he had put it terribly into execution.— 
Eemember, she herself explains the cause of her 
alarm by her exclamation—Why hast thou de¬ 
ceived me, for thou art Saul ?” 

Her alarm, then, was not on account of the figure 
of Samuel she saw in Sauhs mind, for such views 
her profession made her familiar with : but it was 
because her life was in jeopardy, inasmuch as she 
had been detected by the king himself. And mark 
further, that as soon as Saul again assures her of 
safety, you hear of no more alarm, but without com¬ 
prehending the natural agencies at work, she re¬ 
sumes her psychological connection. Saul trem¬ 
blingly asks, What sawest thou For, recol- 



FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


177 


lect, that during the whole scene, it is not said that 
he saw anything. The proof of this is found in the 
fact that he asks her, What sawest thou ?” She 
did all the seeing, and told him that she saw gods 
ascending out of the earth.'' Now, this was either 
a conscious lie, for there were no gods in the earth 
to come up, or the visionary effect of her own excited 
imagination. Then in reply to a question of Saul, 
in whose excited mind Samuel was as he last saw 
him, an old man with a mantle on ; ignorant of this 
purely natural yet strange power, whereby his mind 
was all open to that of the witch, just like many 
now-a-days, he was satisfied that it was a supernatu¬ 
ral power, and so astonished was he that he fell 
down in alarm. Then commenced the conversation 
between Saul and the imaginary Samuel through 
this medium. 

An apparent difficulty here presents itself, but it 
IS only an apparent one. The record says, Samuel 
spake to Saul." This mode of expression is com¬ 
mon. It is said that Solomon built the temple," 
whereas he did not touch a stone personally. It is 
said that Jesus made and baptized more disci¬ 
ples than John," whereas he baptized none himself; 
he did so by the agency of others. You say, I 
built yonder house you mean you employed others 
to build it for you. Gro to a modern spiritual cir¬ 
cle, and receive what purports to be communica¬ 
tions from your mother, and they will come through 



178 


REPRESENT A FIVE WOMEN. 


the medium ; and still spiritualists will say, your 
mother says so-and-so.” Then we have no diffi¬ 
culty in understanding, that what purported to come 
from Samuel, came through the witch medium, 
who, by the power of ventriloquism, easily caused 
Saul to believe that the voice was supernatural. 

In further proof of the correctness of this inter¬ 
pretation, I ask your attention to a fact, which to 
my own mind is perfectly conclusive. It is this— 
every item of information purporting to come from 
Samuel^ already existed in the knowledge and ex¬ 
cited fears of Saul. Bear in mind the circum¬ 
stances. Saul, nervous and deluded, believed 
Samuel was personally there, simply because the 
witch said she saw him. How she saw him I have 
explained. It was natural that Saul should con¬ 
ceive of Samuel, demanding why he had been called ; 
hence the question—Why hast thou disquieted 
me, to bring me up ?” That the holy prophet would 
have used such language—so heathenish in its 
wording and purport, if he really had been there, is 
simply preposterous. But that the psychological 
impressions would anticipate such a rebuke from 
Samuel, is perfectly natural. And anticipating it, 
he utters his ready justification, which, I beg you 
to remember. Having perceived,” i. e. become 
satisfied, from the account of what the witch had 
said she saw, viz : ‘‘ an old man covered with a man¬ 
tle,” or linen ephod, such as the prophets wore, that 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


179 


he was in communication with Samuel ; and having 
anticipated the rebuke — this is his doleful an¬ 
swer—am sore distressed, for the Philistines 
make war against me, and God is departed from 
me, and answereth me no more, neither by prophets 
nor by dreams ; therefore I have called thee, that 
thou mayest make known unto me what I shall do.” 

Then commenced the communications. The 
first was—that the Lord had departed from Saul, 
and that therefore he ought not to ask aid of him.” 
Did not Saul know that ? Why, he had just told 
the imaginary Samuel that God had abandoned 
him : that attempts to obtain knowledge from de¬ 
parted spirits had been expressly forbidden, he had 
known from his boyhood : and of his final rejection 
by Jehovah, Samuel distinctly announced to him 
before his death. See 1st Sam. xv : 23. 

The second —stated that the Lord had taken 
the kingdom from him and given it to David. Was 
that news ? Assuredly not, for Samuel had anointed 
David king : the people's hearts had all gathered 
around him : Jonathan knew this fact, for he said to 
David, “ I know that the Lord hath given thee the 
kingdom and because Saul was well aware of this 
truth, he had sought assiduously to slay the Lord's 
anointed. 

The third —stated that the reason God had done 
this was because of Saul's conduct in relation to 
Amalek. It will astonish any one who has not criti- 



180 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


cally examined this subject, that the words of this 
communication are almost precisely those addressed 
to Saul, in awful tones of retributive warning by 
Samuel, at their last interview before his death— 
words which had impressed themselves indelibly 
upon the guilty conscience of the treacherous 
monarch. 

The fourth and last—stated that in the morrow's 
battle, the Philistines would be victorious and him¬ 
self and sons be slain. Mark the language here em¬ 
ployed—“to-morrow thou and thy sons shall be 
with me."" Would Samuel have employed such 
language if he had been there ? Why, for months 
before his death he would not allow Saul to ap¬ 
proach him, and would he have so overlooked all 
moral distinctions as to promise him a place in heaven 
by his side ? Would he not have urged immediate 
repentance upon the guilty king, and preparation for 
the speedy entrance into eternity, which was before 
him ? Now I admit that this was not in his mind 
in the form of 'positive knowledge, as I have demon¬ 
strated that the facts of the other communications 
were; from the nature of the case, it could not be. 
But was it not there in another form ? Is not this 
the very thing he dreaded, and to avoid which he 
sought aid ? Was not this a result foreseeable to 
the most ordinary intelligence, under the circum¬ 
stances—^his own arm being unnerved—his courage 
gone—his army dispirited—his people disaffected, 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


181 


and God Ms enemy ? I affirm, therefore, with con¬ 
fidence, that this last communication was simply 
the terrific emhodiment of his own awful apprehen¬ 
sions and torturing fear. Sir Walter Scott, in his 
learned work on “ Demonology and Witchcraft,” 
although holding a different theory of this matter 
from the one I am presenting, still admits the truth 
of my last statement, in the following language : 

The defeat and death of the broken-spirited 
king was an event, which the circumstances in 
which he was placed, rendered highly probable, since 
he was surrounded by a superior army of the Phi¬ 
listines, and his character, as a soldier, rendered it 
likely that he would not survive a defeat, which 
must involve the loss of his kingdom.” And the 
result throws light upon the state of his mind. You 
remember that he was not slain hy the enemy, he 
committed suicide, an act which he doubtless pre¬ 
meditated, for no one who understands his character, 
can, for a moment, believe that he would allow him¬ 
self to he taken captive, the inevitable consequence 
of a defeat which should leave him unslaiu. And 
these are all the communications made to him by 
this wretched medium, who pretended to call up 
spirits from the vasty deep.” But no honest, 
sincere consulter of professed spirits now-a-days, 
could he more sure that he has received communi¬ 
cations direct from the spirit land, than Saul was. 
He was convinced, overwhelmed, sore afraid, and 



182 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


fell full length upon the earth. The witch got 
ready a meal, of which they all partook, and then 
the wretched kinff returned to his royal tent at 
Gilboa. 

At last morning’s light falls upon the Hebrew 
mountains, and chases away the shadows of that dis¬ 
mal night. The armies meet in deadly combat. 
Victory soon perches upon the banners of Philistia. 
Gilboa is covered with the gory bodies of the slain. 
The mountain breeze is laden with the wails of the 
dying, and the air is rent by the victor shouts of 
the proud foe. A poet hath conceived of Saul at 
this terrible juncture, stretching his tall form to its 
utmost height, as he beholds his surviving soldiers, 
and exclaiming— 

“ Away, away, degenerate Hebrews, fly, 

From Saul, nor see your Monarch die. 

The hateful phantom vainly now implored. 

Unarmed my spirit, and unedged my sAvord. 

Else, fled not Saul before the haughty foe. 

Nor on his back received the Gentile blow, 

Haste, slave, strike, strike! the victor shall not say 
The chief of Israel was a living prey. 

Strike the sharp weapon through my mangled breast. 

One deep wound more be added to the rest. 

Coward! this is the day, this is the hour, 

Saul not outlives his glory and his power.” 

Drawing his own sword, he falls upon it; and as 
his hfe-blood gurgles away, and through the gather¬ 
ing gloom the ocean fullness of eternity heaves in 
view, his soul’s emotions are thus interpreted— 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


183 


“ Eternity ! how dark the waves that roll, 

In booming discord, on my frighted soul. 

Eternity! how filled with wrath and gloom ; 

Creation’s vast, yet never closing tomb. 

Billows that flow in awful shade and fire— 

Black, lowering horrors fierce, and flashing ire. 

Mystic and tedious, yet unshunned by me, 

Thy dismal terrors, 0 Eternity !” 

Then all was still. Encased in royal armor that 
magnificent form laid lifeless on the ground, en¬ 
shrouded, like that of many other spirit consulters, 
in the blackness of a suicide's death. Over his sad 
fate the magnanimous David thus lamented, How 
are the mighty fallen ! Ye mountains of Gilboa, 
let there be no dew, neither let there be rain'upon 
you, nor field-ofierings : for there the shield of the 
mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, as 
though he had not been anointed with oil. Tell it 
not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon, 
lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the 
daughters of the uncircumcised triumph. 

The second object of this lecture is accomplished. 
You have before you the witch scene, and my in¬ 
terpretation thereof. I pass to my last object : 

* In the first chapter of 2 Samuel, where this lament is record¬ 
ed, our translators have strangely misapprehended the eighteenth 
verse, which they render—“ Also he bade them teach the children 
the use of the bow.” They have supplied the words the use of, which 
entirely misleads the mind, for “ The how" was the name of the elegy 
he composed over the sad fate of Saul and Jonathan, which “ he bade 
them teach their children,” 



184 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


which is to present some practical remarlcs deduced 
from both of the former. 

First—This subject throws light upon what are 
called spiritual manifestations of the present day. 

Indeed, the case of the Witch of Endor and Saul 
is claimed to be one of the clear proofs that a human 
being can call back the spirits of the dead. Is it 
not evident that this case, at least, fails to support 
that theory ? Now in addition to the arguments 
already presented, bear in mind that law of inter¬ 
pretation which requires that where any passage 
can he fairly explained on natural principles, we 
must not resort to a miracle for its elucidation ; and 
consider, the strength of the probability that I am 
correct, in the view of this passage I have given 
you. The soul of Samuel, while in his body and 
out of it, was obedient to the will of Jehovah ; 
while in its body, God was the subject of its love 
and obedience. Therefore, if it had come back from 
the high ministries of heaven, it would only have 
been in obedience to the will of God. Now look at 
the character of Saul. He has rejected God, and 
God has rejected him. He will not answer him by 
Urim, by prophets, or by dreams.'^ He is black 
with the clotted gore of nearly an hundred mur¬ 
ders. Think of that witch—an idolater—an out¬ 
cast—an outlaw ; and tell me, is there the least 
probability that, to gratify Saul, his enemy, God 
would send his servant Samuel from heaven into a 



THE FEMALE SFIRITUALIST. 


185 


witch's den, in response to incantations, on account 
of which He had commanded that witches should 
he put to death ? and send him, too, on the useless 
errand of communicating to him facts Saul already 
knew ? Yerily not ! If one doubt remains hear 
this passage, found in 1 Chron. 10 : 13 : So Saul 
died for his transgression which he committed against 
the Lord : even against the word of the Lord, which 
he kept not; and also for asking counsel of one that 
had a familiar spirit—to inquire of it” Again I 
ask, can you believe that the spirit of Samuel would 
have appeared at the bidding of a vile witch, and 
the request of an apostate prince ? Did God refuse 
Saul the response of His prophets ? and did a witch 
compel the appearance of Samuel, the chief of the 
prophets, notwithstanding ? Ho, no ! 

The only shadow of a reason for this prevalent 
opinion is based upon the alarm the witch herself 
expressed, when she said she saw the old man with 
a mantle. Surely, you will never fall in that error 
again, while you remember : 

First—That Samuel was thus in Saul's mind. 

Second—That she merely saw what any clairvoy¬ 
ant could have seen, had he been in magnetic con¬ 
nection with Saul. 

Third—That her own language demonstrates the 
cause of her alarm. She said, Thou art Saul: 
why hast thou deceived me ?” She was alarmed 
because she thought she was detected in her unlaw- 



186 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ful business, by tbe very king who bad ordered such 
to be put to death. But while to our minds, illu¬ 
minated by the light of the nineteenth century, 
there is not even a probability that in this case the 
spirit of the departed returned to earth, and made 
communications, still as I have before hinted, Saul, 
the majestic king, was satisfied, convinced, that such 
was the case ; that he had really received a commu¬ 
nication from a departed spirit ; and it is possible 
that the woman herself really thought so too. For 
history plainly shows, that that strange yet purely 
natural agent, which we call electricity, galvanism, 
mesmeric influence, the nervous principle, was known 
to the ancients and employed by them; and by many 
was regarded as supernatural, and therefore they 
supposed, that when by the excitement of their own 
nervous organizations, they induced a corresponding 
state of nervous sensibility, that it was caused by the 
spirits of the dead, or other supernatural powers. 
Hence both parties were often honestly and sincerely 
deceived. Does not this case then, throw light upon 
at least a large portion of what are called, spiritual 
manifestations now-a-days—that portion at least, 
where the medium merely communicates to the con- 
suiter, with whom she is in connection, facts of which 
she herself is ignorant, but which are all in his mind, 
though neither written nor spoken by him*H^ And 
yet how many honest, sincere people there are, who 
go to a medium, and ask questions, either mentally 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


187 


or orally, in regard to matters known only to tkem- 
selves, and because the things are either rapped out, 
written or spoken by the medium, feel just as Saul 
did, astonished, satisfied, convinced that they have 
had communications from the dead. 

And in regard to the remaining class of these 
phenomena, such as table moving, producing sounds 
and communicating matter, which is not in the mind 
of the consulter—what is the rational and philoso¬ 
phical probability in regard to them ? 

Just this. Inasmuch as a thousand things now 
known to be the result of natural influences, in past 
days have been believed to be the products of super¬ 
natural power : and especially inasmuch as mesme¬ 
ric trances, clairvoyant developments, and psycho¬ 
logical influences have been regarded in past days, 
as mysterious and inexplicable as these phenomena 
now are, and as, by the light of advancing science, 
they are now believed by every body to be merely 
the operations of hitherto unknown mental and phy¬ 
sical laws, so I afSrm that the reasonable, philoso¬ 
phical probability in regard to them is—that they 
are one of two things : 

They are either higher developments of now known 
physical and mental laws—or of others purely na¬ 
tural, yet to be discovered. 

The monks of the dark ages accidentally found 
themselves capable of exerting what we call mes¬ 
meric influence. They did not know what it was. 



188 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


or how they produced it, any more than honest mod¬ 
ern mediums know how their raps are produced: but 
like them they ascribed it to supernatural power, and 
thousands of their adherents, just like the adherents 
of mediums now, religiously believed that it was the 
product of supernatural agency, which advancing 
science has demonstrated to be purely natural. 

To this view I have heard but one prominent ob¬ 
jection, namely, that mediums whose moral charac¬ 
ter is above reproach, unitedly assert that they do 
have intercourse with the departed—that they are 
perceptibly conscious of seeing, hearing, and receiv¬ 
ing messages from them, and that as consciousness 
is the highest possible kind of testimony, they ought 
to be believed. To this I reply that, the validity 
of proof derived from consciousness, can only be pre¬ 
dicated upon the consciousness of the mind in its 
normal or natural state. For, in many abnormal 
or unnatural mental states, consciousness is no evi¬ 
dence at all. The man who has the delirium tre¬ 
mens is perfectly conscious that he sees snakes and 
devils, but is his consciousness any evidence of their 
presence ? When under psychological influence, 
persons see men with noses four feet long, and wo¬ 
men with a dozen mouths ; is that consciousness 
any evidence of the existence of such monstrosities ? 
History will aid us on this point. During the fif¬ 
teenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, what 
was then called necromancy, witchcraft, prevailed 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


189 


far more extensively over Europe than what is call¬ 
ed spiritualism yet prevails over America : for it 
was the general^ popular belief. 

During a long period, all the mediums in exten¬ 
sive territories affirmed, that they regularly attend¬ 
ed what was called the Witches’ Sabbath, and met 
many there whom they knew. And so sure were 
they of it, that when afterwards persons were placed 
upon their trial for witchcraft, they testified upon 
oath, that the accused had been present and par¬ 
ticipated in the exercises of the Witches’ Sabbath. 
They testified, that at those times they had seen 
the devil in person baptize novitiates, administer 
the sacrament to them ; that they then all feasted, 
danced, and drank until cock-crowing, and then all 
returned home on the backs of demons, or astride 
broomsticks. Now these thousands of persons were 
honest in their belief: to them it was a matter of 
consciousness—to us a certain delusion. But how 
do I account for it, on the view presented in this 
lecture ? Thus : every body believed in witch¬ 
craft. Witches were in every body’s mind. Per¬ 
sons no sooner passed out of the normal into the 
abnormal or psychological condition, than the uni¬ 
versal belief in these spirits impressed itself upon 
them, and by the mental law to which I have refer¬ 
red, these impressions became embodied as visible 
realities, and they sincerely believed they were in 
communication with them. 



190 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


So I explain the phenomena of modern spiritual 
intercourse. The medium now sits down in a cir¬ 
cle, prepossessed with the idea of communicating 
with spirits. He passes into the abnormal or clair¬ 
voyant state with this impression on his mind. The 
persons who compose the circle are similarly impress¬ 
ed, for they came there to obtain spiritual manifes¬ 
tations. Each one thinks of the spirit of some de¬ 
parted friend : and all these thoughts, by a strange 
but natural law, become impressed on the mind of 
the medium. And then he is able accurately to 
describe the departed, imitate their actions, tell 
when and how they died, &c., in exact accordance 
with the knowledge, latent in the minds of those 
interested : so that the communications are merely 

the responsive echoing of their own mental mech¬ 
anism—the telegraphic rapping out of their own 
electric-borne thought.'' Now you observe that I 
do not accuse mediums of trickery or deceit. I apply 
to them or their adherents no scurrilous epithets. 
I admit the facts they claim. I simply deny their 
inference. They infer as Saul did, that they are 
the products of departed spirits. I affirm that they 
are but the workings, as in the case before us, of 
mysterious, yet purely natural, physical and mental 
laws. 

But it is said that great men, such as Judge Ed¬ 
monds and Governor Talmadge, believe in the spirit 
theory. 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


191 


I reply that history has a parallel for this. What 
two names stand higher than those of Sir Edward 
Coke and Sir Matthew Hale ? Yet both believed 
in the reality of witchcraft, and the latter presided 
in 1650 at trials, where persons were convicted of it, 
and he condemned them to death. 

Again it is said—see how fast it makes converts; 
it multiplies them by the thousands.^' To this I 
reply—that circumstances favor its progress. No 
other ism ” is now in the field. Millerism swept 
over the land like a tornado, and then died out.— 
Perfectionism made quite a breeze, and then blew 
out. Mesmerism agitated the land, but now is little 
heard of. Is not this a significant fact ? Spirit¬ 
ualism has absorbed mesmerism. And the public 
mind must have some excitement. It has been well 
remarked that “ The philosophic Shakspeare pic¬ 
tures only the strongly excited as seeing and hear¬ 
ing ghosts ; the nervous excitement gradually be¬ 
ing aroused in mind after mind, until many see the 
same.'' For proof, read Macbeth and Hamlet.— 
Juan of Arc—born in the midst of war and politi¬ 
cal convulsions—possessing a high nervous organi¬ 
zation, which was excited by the events transpiring 
around her—believed that she saw celestial visions 
and heard celestial voices. 

Then there are masses of people who have no set¬ 
tled belief. They have never examined the claims of 
Christianity ; they want some religious faith, and 



192 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


this strikes them as most plausible. But this ex¬ 
citement must make far greater progress before it 
rivals its former developments in other landsv 

I feel the force of an inquiry, which I doubt not, 
has arisen in your mind. It is this- 

If my view is correct, are these things to he deplor¬ 
ed ? Wl^y do not all seek for knowledge through 
their ap/>ncy ? Why do so many of the best, most 
stable portions of the community stand aloof, and 
refuse to countenance what is in this age called Spir¬ 
itualism ; in other ages under other forms—necro¬ 
mancy, witchcraft ? 

Bear me witness, now, that I do not apply the 
opprobrious term, witch, to a modern medium. I do 
no such thing. Some of them are my personal 
friends, whose characters I respect, whose friendship 
I prize, and whose feelings I would not unnecessarily 
injure ; and I feel conscious that nearly eleven years 
residence in this city has convinced them that I am 
charitable in my feelings, and that I am kindly honor¬ 
able to those who differ from me in their views. I 
beg you to observe that I do not say that modern 
mediums, in their social or moral characters, are for 
a moment to be classified with those wicked ones of 
old. All I say is, that it ip mv own conviction that 
one of the agencies employed by the v oman of Endor 
and others of her class^ wa the r-v.-e mesmeric or 
nervous principle, inhering tural element in 

certain conditions of the bod:. aiu, Lnii:.d ; an element 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


3 0-3 


wliioli, traceable through all history in varied devel¬ 
opments, call it spiritual influence if you will, for it 
certainly is intermediate between ordinary mind and 
matter, is the cause of those manifestations which 
they honestly think are caused by departed spirits. 
But then the question returns —‘‘ Why are they to 
be deplored I answer you honestly and candidly. 
Because the spiritualists are mistaken in supposing 
that the phenomena they witness are new, whereas 
our own country has been the scene of far stranger 
events. Consult Mather's Magnalia, Book 6, pp. 
69-70, and you will find, that in the days of New- 
England witchcraft, mysterious rappings were heard 
—scratcliings on bedsteads—drumming on boards— 
voices—a frying-pan rang so loud that it was heard 
an hundred yards distant—sounds of steps, and 
clattering of chairs were heard in empty rooms— 
ignorant men spake in various languages—one little 
girl argued concerning death with paraphrases on 
the thirty-first Psalm which amazed the people— 
they spoke Hebrew and Grreek—and the mediums 
while thus doing closed their eyes —their frames , 
were stiff —one person was said to have been drawn 
up by unseen power to the ceiling—violent convul 
sions—twitching.of the muscles—oscillation of Ih 
body were the aoix^mpaniments. 

And what is remarkable in the analogy, Bancroft 
quotes from the Vm y of ..lather this entry made 

after the witclu- e xcitement, by which he was 
9 



194 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN, 


carried away, had died out : I had temptations to 
Atheism, and to the abandonment of all religion as 
a delusion/' Who can wonder at this ? Similar 
results from yielding to such excitements strew the 
world's history. Such wax worse and worse, de¬ 
ceiving and being deceived." 

They are mistaken, as Saul was, and the world 
has always been, in ascribing whatever was strange 
and to them inexplicable, to supernatural powers ; 
whereas, advancing science has demonstrated that 
there are mysterious laws in our complex nature 
not yet fully understood, but which are amply ade- . 
quate to account for all that has been seen or heard. 
Moreover, they make a sad mistake in arguing that 
because the Bible records instances of spiritual 
communications to men, that in this they find a 
probability in favor of their theory. But what com¬ 
munications are thus recorded ? Those of angels sent 
by God on important errands, not the spirits of the 
departed. But since Christ came, and gave the 
world a perfect revelation, even angels have not been 
thus employed. “God manifest in the flesh " super¬ 
seded the necessity. 

Oh, I have one dear boy whose body now reposes 
in the grave, and whose darling soul is in heaven, 
and from the depths of a stricken heart say, let 
no one attempt to call him from the bosom of Jesus ; 
nay, I say of him as David said of his boy, “ I shall, 
go to him, he shall not return to me.” 



THE FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


195 


We oppose them, because, believing as we do 
from history and from science, that what is seen and 
beard is the result of a high state of nervous and 
magnetic excitement, it is highly injurious to the 
'physical constitution. Kememher, your mediums 
are generally young girls, or highly excitable women, 
or, what is more pitiable, nervous men. Kemem¬ 
her, that the more they attend circles where, in si¬ 
lence, this nervous magnetic principle is excited, 
the more deranged their nervous organizations be¬ 
come ; until, not unfrequently, wildness and even 
insanity is the result. It is dangerous to experi¬ 
ment with our nervous energy. We oppose them 
because we are forbidden to seek knowledge from 
such sources''—Isaiah 8 :19 ; Deut. 18 :10,11,12. 
Why? 

It is not thus to be obtained. It is a significant 
fact that all the literature of spiritualism has not 
added one new thought to the world of mind. It 
cultivates an idle curiosity. We oppose them be¬ 
cause of the uses to which it is put. And what are 
they ? 

To make 'money. Think of a sign in Broadway, 
New York, where a woman professes to call up the 
spirit of your good old mother for twenty-five cents ! 

It is employed to promulgate dangerous errors 
~and destroy confidence in the holy Bible. I am aware 
there are a great many good people, Christian peo¬ 
ple, who honestly have been deceived, and who do 



196 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


not wish to promote infidelity ; but the truth is, 
that the leaders of the enterprise, many of them, 
were once professors of religion, but for years have 
secretly been sceptics. And it is painfully amusing 
to observe that every argument that spiritualists 
have used against Christianity, Christian churches, 
and Christian ministers, can be found stereotyped 
in the books of old infidels : so that the truth is, 
that infidelity,' vanquished on the battle-fields of 
history, science, and literature, in former days, in 
these last times has come up under a new garb, 
with a new voice, a new form, new name, but with 
its old heart filled with enmity to the God-honoring, 
sin-condemning, pride-killing, but soul-saving, reli¬ 
gion of J esus. 

Moreover, spiritualism takes off attentionfrom the 
great practical duties of life, Just think of it !— 
What has spiritualism done ? What is it doing ? 
What charitable institution lias it founded ? What 
poor has it clothed ? What hungry has it fed ? 
What household has it made happier ! Alas ! into 
how many it has carried disorder, jealousy, and death ! 
More than this : it leads to a neglect of the word, 
of God! It leads to a practical forgetfulness of 
God himself, by filling up the mind with thoughts 
of bodiless spirits. It annihilates prayer to the om¬ 
nipotent God, and substitutes the uncertain commu¬ 
nications of imaginary beings. It dishonors Christ, 
as Ihe Saviour, by his atoning merit and efficacious 



FEMALE SPIRITUALIST. 


197 


grace, of human souls—by making each his own Sa¬ 
viour, or saved by other spirits than Christ's. Tell 
me honestly whether true science, developing the 
deep principles of nature, which is God's elder scrip¬ 
ture, does not supply all our material wants ? Tell 
me honestly and truly, ye who know what there is 
—for many there are who do not—in spiritual Chris¬ 
tianity, genuine Bible religion, God's later scripture, 
what hope, what fear, what desire, what want, what 
yearning of our soul it does not supply, in its sub¬ 
lime revealments of God, of man, of law, of gospel, 
of time, of eternity ? 

0 Bible Christianity ! sure word of prophecy— 
lamp of our feet—guide of our way—illuminator of 
our reason and of the great mysteries of providence 
and eternity: blessed Christianity ! sealed by the 
blood of the Son of God, attested by genuine mira¬ 
cles, signets of the Almighty—confirmed by the tes¬ 
timony of millions of bleeding martyrs and the his¬ 
tory of eighteen centuries : precious Christianity ! 
thou soother of human sorrows ; thou support when 
all else fails ; guide of wayward youth ; staff of tot¬ 
tering age ; victor over death ; opener of heaven, 
with the pious of earth and the ransomed of glory, 
I bow my soul before thee in humility, in awe, in 
thanksgiving ; for thou art the hope of humanity, 
the originator of all noble reforms and generous 
charities. Thou art our sun, and all other lights 

“ Lead but to bewilder, and dazzle to blind.” 



198 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Thou art our rock, and all is sea beside. It is the 
boast of spiritualism that the numbers of professors 
of religion are decreasing ; that in a few years the 
Bible will be merely an antiquated relic of the past; 
that Christian churches will be broken up, Christian 
sanctuaries converted into halls for exhibitions. Its 
leaders at least are resolved that if these results are 
not reached, it shall not be their fault. What awaits 
us in this regard in the future I know not. That 
Christianity is to be attacked more fiercely than ever 
before, that there will be a great falling off of 
nominal professors, that the Christian church will 
be sifted, the prophecies of my Bible assure me. 
For aught I know, Christianity may again, as in the 
past, suffer a temporary defeat, its true followers 
suffer bitter persecutions, and error seem to have 
the ascendancy. But I do know that 

“ Truth, crushed to earth shall rise again, 

The eternal years of God are hers.” 

I do know that the once crucified but now glori¬ 
fied Jesus, the friend of the poor, the needy, the op¬ 
pressed of all mankind, on whose immaculate brow, 
triumphant error once wreathed the crown of thorns, 
shall yet wear the resplendent crown of all the 
earth—shall see of the travail of his soul in a re¬ 
generated humanity, a redeemed world, and be satis¬ 
fied. I do know, that though I myself may aposta¬ 
tize, though all professors may turn their backs on 



THE FEMALE SPIBITUALItJT. 


199 


true religion, and wander after every ism^' that 
may start up and draw its thousands after it, that 
still He shall have a seed to serve him that still 
in this very world in whose soil his gory cross was 
planted, whose air was vocal with his death groans ! 
yea, this earth, the scene of his ignominy, shall yet 
he the theatre of the glory of his conquering grace, 
and as it revolves in its orbit shall send up to the 
throne of the God of the Bible, anthems of praise 
loud as seven thunders and melodious as the cho- 
ruses of eternity-trained angels. 

One thing is certain, as Milton has beautifully 
said in his Christmas Hymn— 

“ The oracles are dumb; 

No voice or hideous hum 
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving 
Apollo from his shrine, 

Can no more divine • 

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving, 

No nightly trance or breathed spell 

Inspires the pale-eyed priests from the prophetic cell.” 

The heathen oracle is no more, the witchcraft of 
past days is no more —in that form; delusions which 
have beclouded the minds of men are fast disap¬ 
pearing before true science and true religion, but 

Beware lest any man spoil you, through philosophy 
and vain deceit, after the traditions of men and the 
rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.'' 



ABIGAIL 


^iip«ri0r SEift 

OF AN INFERIOR HUSBAND. 


1 Sam, 25 : 3. “ Noto the name of the man was Nodal, and the 
name of his wife was Abigail ; she was a woman of beautiful counte¬ 
nance and of good understanding ; but the man was churlish and 
evil in his doings.'*^ 

It will take but a few moments to give an out¬ 
line of the recorded incidents in the life of the sub¬ 
ject of this lecture. * Before doing this, however, 
we must glance at the leading events of Jewish his¬ 
tory during the period in which she lived, and the 
reign of David. You will recollect that the last 
lecture brought down the record to the reign of 
Saul, which we grouped around dismal Endor and 
the gory battle-field of Gilboah, where Israel was 
vanquished, the guilty and superstitious monarch— 
whose life-morning had opened with such unclouded 
glory, closed his life-day in the gloom of a suicide's 
death ; where his noble sons met a premature end, 
over whom David uttered the mournfully grand 





I'HE SUPERIOR WIFE. 


201 


lamentations we then quoted. Gladly we now hasten 
from those dark and dewless hills, to trace a few of 
the events and characteristics of the reign of David, 
whom, you will recollect, Samuel had anointed as 
the chosen of the Lord to be the king of Israel, 
while hut a boy he tended his father's flocks on the 
green hills that girt his native home. Kemember, 
he was the great-grandson of Ruth, and a regal 
progenitor of our Saviour Jesus Christ. Called to 
the throne in perilous times, he reigned forty years, 
and during his administration the territoiy of Israel 
was greatly enlarged ; its resources vastly increased, 
and all the elements of its prosperity astonishingly 
multiplied. Very difierent are the views which 
have been taken of his character. 

There is a tendency in us all either to overrate or 
to underrate others, and especially historic person¬ 
ages. We either make them angels or devils. In 
the one case we do them more, in the other, less 
than justice. This is seen in regard to Napolean 
Bonaparte. While English historians have at¬ 
tempted to make him, in his moral features, less 
than a man, an American author has endeavored to 
make him more than human. William Hazlitt has 
disgraced himself in a scurrilous paper published in 
the Round Table," where he describes David as 
a “ crowned, spiritual hypocrite, with no redeeming 
feature." Infidelity in its lowest putridity, never 
uttered a baser calumny. The truth is, that David’s 



202 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


was a mixed character, just as is that of every 
human being. In the fullness of his power and the 
wealth of his mature luxury, he committed great 
sins ; as in the case of Bathsheba and Uriah. But 
tell me, was not his remorse and repentance equally 
great ? Bead the immortal record of his self-loath¬ 
ing, of his honest, whole-souled confessions to Grod 
and to man, his midnight flowing tears that wet his 
royal pillow, his earnest endeavors to make what 
reparation he could for wrongs committed ; and then 
tell me, whether these are the exercises of a wicked 
man, in whom wickedness predominates ; or of a 
good man, temporarily led into sin by the power of 
strong passion and baneful circumstances ? Tell 
me, candidly, whether such are the exercises of a 
bad man, in whose life a few good deeds form only 
exceptions to general wickedness ; or of a good but 
imperfect man, in whose life goodness is the general 
rule, and wickedness but the exception ? 

Whenever you hereafter hear David's sins either 
sneered at or dwelt upon as extraordinary, please 
remember the age in which he lived, and then take 
your Bible ani read aloud these words, in the 51st 
Psalm : Have mercy on me, oh Grod ! According 
to thy loving kindness, blot out my transgressions, 
wash me thoroughly, and cleanse me from my sins ; 
for 1 acknowledge my transgressions, and my sins 
are ever before me. Create in me a new heart."— 
Think of David as a friend—the pure Jonathan 



THE SUPERIOR WISE. 


203 


loved him., with ‘‘ a love passing that of women.”— 
Think of him as a warrior, and what general of an¬ 
cient or modern times was his superior in courage 
or magnanimity ? Think of him as a king, and 
what monarch’s government was ever more just or 
prosperous ? Think of him as a father, and remem¬ 
ber two scenes : first, that which occurred when 
they brought from the forest-hough the dead body 
of the wicked and ungrateful son ; and the agonized 
father, forgetting his own bitter wrongs, cried out, 
0 my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom !— 
Would God I had died for thee, 0 Absalom, my 
son, my son !” Second, that which occurred, when 
about to die, he called to him young Solomon, and 
with accents tremulous with age and love, gave him 
thus his farewell blessing : “ Solomon, my son, know 
thou the God of thy father, and serve him with a 
pure heart and a willing mind.” Look at these 
scenes, and tell me where, in the records of paternal 
love, grief, and counsel, you can find a nobler char¬ 
acter. Think of him as a poet, and read the Psalms, 
most of which are his composition, and you will find 
all the high elements of the loftiest, grandest and 
sweetest poetry. Sometimes the harp of the min¬ 
strel king rises into a grandeur, in which its strings 
seem to shiver, as if a storm were the harper 
then it sinks into a solitary plaint, like the cry “ of 
the bittern by a lonely pool,” or the low wail of a 
heart ready to burst ; and anon, it gushes forth like 



204 


REPRESENT All VE WOMEN. 


the chorus of rejoicing spirits. Lastly, consider him 
as a religious man, and while you observe defects, 
and occasional sins, .1 beg you to peruse carefully 
the 22d chapter of the 2d book of Samuel, and his 
psalms of adoration, penitence, thanksgiving, and 
praise ; and I am sure that you will feel that he 
was an earnest, devout, and acceptable worshipper 
of the true God. He was about twenty years of age 
when he was anointed by Samuel, and about thirty 
when he ascended the throne. It was between these 
periods that he was persecuted by Saul, and com¬ 
pelled to fly to the wilderness, where he was joined 
by numerous adherents ; of whom it is said, indi¬ 
cative of their bravery, that their faces were like 
the faces of lions, and they were swift as the roes 
upon the mountains.” 

It was during this part of his history that the inci¬ 
dents in the life of the subject of this lecture trans¬ 
pired. A family scene first claims our attention ; 
and you will find it different in some respects from 
any we have yet beheld. It is in Maon—a city lo¬ 
cated in the south part of Judea, where we are in¬ 
troduced to a husband and wife. The name of the 
wife is Abigail; that of her husband, Nabal. His 
name is enough to make us suspicious of him, for it 
signifies, “ foolish, base, villainous.” That of his 
wife is adapted to make us think favorably of her, 
for it means joy, exultation of a father.” It was 
doubtless given to her, because of this significance. 



THE SUPEKIOR WIFE. 


205 


^ joyo^^s parent of whom she was the pride and 
the glory. In her young womanhood she became 
the wife of Nabal, who ^^was very rich, and had 
large possessions in Carmel.” But with all his 
wealth, he was a churl; that is, a brutal, ill-hu¬ 
mored, covetous, narrow-minded man,” as to his 
character ; and “ evil in his doings.” His wife 
was not only a beautiful woman, but possessed a 
good understanding,” which scripture phrase is very 
comprehensive, including all the elements of strength, 
cultivation, taste, conscience, and perception, which 
go to make up the noble-minded woman, and fit 
her to be the companion and friend of a cultivated, 
pure-minded man. We are introduced to this 
couple, with these characteristics, living in luxury 
at their residence in Maon. 

The scene now changes. The wilderness of Paran, 
with its dreary wastes, verdureless hills and naked 
crags, rises before us. In a lonely mountain is a 
rock-ribbed cave ; amid whose dark recesses the 
persecuted David and his noble band have found 
shelter and safety. But their provisions are ex¬ 
hausted. Hunger begins to gnaw at their vitals.— 
Habal’s flocks are feeding in the dim distance. 
Easily they can seize them and supply their wants; 
but the noble David, though injured, banished, and 
hunted like a partridge on the mountains, scorns to 
turn robber and thief; and at the time of sheep¬ 
shearing sends a deputation to Nabal, with this 



206 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


polite and noble message : Peace be to tbee, and 
peace be to tbine house, and peace be to all that 
thou hast. And now I have heard that thou hast 
shearers ; now thy shepherds which were with us, 
we hurt them not; neither was there aught missing 
unto them all the time they were in Carmel. Ask 
thy young men, and they will show thee. Where¬ 
fore let the young men find favor in thine eyes, for 
we come in a good day; give, I pray thee, whatso¬ 
ever cometh to thy hand, unto thy servants and to 
thy son David.'’ 

This message, worthy of the anointed of God, it 
would seem could not have failed to have touched 
the heart of any ordinary man. But mark the re¬ 
sponse of this rich churl ; while the deep lines of 
supreme selfishness deepen on his hard face, and 
with a voice cold as the crack of an iceberg, he re¬ 
sponds, Who is David ? And who is the son of 
Jesse ? There be many servants now-a-days that 
break away from their masters. Shall I then take 
my bread, and my water, and my fiesh, that I have 
killed for my shearers^ and give it to men whom I 
know not I very much suspect that this mean, 
rich man lied, in order to make an excuse for his 
stinginess ; as many a man has done since his day. 
Is it probable that he did not know David ? and if 
he did not, he had only to ask his own servants, and 
they would have told him, that David had not only 
kept his needy followers from injuring them and 



THE SUPERIOR WIFE. 


207 


their master's property, but bad actually protected 
them from the bands of marauders which infested 
the wilderness. 

The messengers return to the mountain cave.— 
Now David is a man of hot blood : he becomes in¬ 
dignant at the insulting answer of the rich churl: 
his men are wasting for want of food : his eagle eye 
is flashing fire : he is angry, and grasping his own 
sword, commands four hundred of his followers to 
gird theirs, and follow him to Nabal's dwelling and 
extirpate all that he has. 

Hasten we thither before him, and observe a scene 
transpiring there. One of Nabal's young men has 
gone to his mistress, and told her all that has occur¬ 
red. His excuse for coming to her is—That his 
master is such a man of Belial that he dare not 
speak to him." She feels grieved at the contempti¬ 
ble conduct of her husband, and becomes conscious 
of the impending danger. Her decision is formed. 
She confers not with Nabal, for that were useless. 
But her household is at stake, and she is alone equal 
to the emergency. Taking with her ^‘two hundred 
loaves, two bottles of wine, five dressed sheep, five 
measures of parched corn, one hundred clusters of 
raisins, two hundred cakes of figs," and having com¬ 
manded her servants to go before, she followed in 
the direction of the wilderness. Descending an 
elevation of Carmel, she met the approaching armed 
host, coming down from Paran, and bowing herself 



208 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


before David, uttered impromptu, one of the finest 
addresses to be found in the literature of any age. 

Upon me,"' she said, “ upon me, my lord, let this 
iniquity be ; yet, let thine handmaiden, I pray thee, 
speak in thine ears." And she did speak, as none 
but a high-minded, pious, magnanimous, shrewd 
woman could speak. I have not time to quote all 
she said here ; but you must read it ; and in all 
that beautiful speech you will not find one word of 
fulsome adulation : you will not find her for one 
moment forgetting her own dignity ; but you will 
see developments of the loftiest piety, the most deli¬ 
cate purity, a grand breadth of thought, an eleva¬ 
tion of language that marks a superior woman, 
whose mental and moral beauty far surpassed the 
magnificence of her physical loveliness. 

The young warrior is disarmed. His sword falls 
into his scabbard. His better nature is called forth. 
The religious element awakens in him, and clasping 
his hands while he looks heavenward, exclaims, 
“ Blessed be the Lord thy Grod which sent thee to 
me this day, and blessed be thou which hath kept 
me this day from shedding blood." Her mission 
succeeds. Her gifts are accepted. Her husband's 
life is saved. His property secured, joyfully the 
superior wife returns to her inferior husband, and 
alas, she finds him as she has often found him be¬ 
fore-drunk. The next morning, when the influ¬ 
ence of his low, drunken revelry had been slept off. 



THE SirPERIOR WIFE. 


209 


Abigail told him tbe fearful tale of tbe danger that 
had threatened him, and how she had averted it. 
And just as any other low, mean, churlish man 
would have acted in similar circumstances, Naba?s 
cowardly heart petrified with fear; and selfishly 
forgetful of the gratitude he owed the angel of a wife, 
whom he never had either capacity or disposition to 
appreciate, he uttered no word of thankfulness to 
her, but sat wrapped up in stupified selfishness, cold 
and heartless as a stone. 

Twelve short days afterwards, by a stroke of 
Providence, Nabal died, and his pallid corpse lay 
stiff in death in the midst of all his wealth, unla¬ 
mented by a single neighbor or relative. For though 
the noble Abigail, whose married life had been one 
continued scene of unhappiness, could but shed tears 
over the untimely fate of her brutal, drunken hus¬ 
band, who was so poorly prepared for the fearful 
realities of the eternal world, how could she sin¬ 
cerely lament the stroke that separated her from an 
inferior, churlish man, whom she did endure, but 
could not love ? As well might the prisoner la¬ 
ment the decree that opens his prison doors, or the 
oppressed lament the blow that breaks the tyrant's 
sway, or the crushed slave lament the stroke that 
shivers his fetters and lets him go forth to breathe 
the air of freedom. Subsequently brighter days 
dawned upon her, but the theme of this lecture 
does not require us to trace her history further. 



210 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


With these facts before us I remark— 

I.—I have succeeded in accomplishing one object. 
I have introduced to you a personage of whom many 
knew little or nothing before ; and even those who 
knew that there was in the Bible the record of such 
a woman, have hitherto failed to appreciate the 
transcendant beauty of her person and character. 
And if you feel obliged to any one who introduces 
you to a person worthy of your acquaintance, es¬ 
pecially when it is a lady, I flatter myself that you 
will not regret having given me a hearing to-day. 
Indeed I am astonished that the Christian world 
has so sadly failed to appreciate Abigail. The 
names of other prominent females are as familiar as 
household words ; that of Abigail is rarely heard. 
Whereas she is inferior to none of them, and supe¬ 
rior to most of them in all the grand elements of 
magnificent womanhood. Of what female have these 
two leading elements of womanly glory, a beautiful 
countenance'' and a good understanding," been so 
distinctly predicated ? What other woman do we 
read of, who, placed in circumstances equally try¬ 
ing, and deporting herself with such pure dignity, 
came forth out of the fiery ordeal so unscathed as 
she ? I am further astonished, that artists have so 
much neglected Abigail. They have given us pictures 
of Sarah at her tent door ; of Hagar in the wilder¬ 
ness ; of Eebecca at the well; of Miriam at the Red 
Sea ; of Jeptha's daughter meeting her father ; of 



THE SUPERIOR WIFE. 


211 


Bathsheba as first seen by David ; of Rutb gleaning 
in the fields of Betblebem ; of Esther approaching 
the king, and others ; hut you seldom ever saw a 
picture, painted or engraved, of the splendid Abi¬ 
gail. Does her life not supply scenes worthy of a 
master's pencil ? I will invite your attention to two, 
of which I will draw before your imagination word- 
pictures. The one shall be —the wilderness scene. 

Behold, a rocky defile of Carmel, down which four 
hundred armed men are eagerly following their 
leader. Their armor glitters in the sunshine. Their 
countenances are those of soldiers bent on shedding 
blood. The servants with their laden beasts, and 
Abigail gracefully grouped on the one side, form a 
beautiful contrast by their peaceful habiliments and 
alarmed looks, to the fierce attitudes of the warriors 
on the other. Then, see the extreme beauty of 
Abigail, her pleading look and suppliant posture, 
her modest dignity and tender earnestness, in 
contrast with the manly form and superb face of 
the youthful warrior—David, his expression vary¬ 
ing from indignation to softened admiration, while 
his hand relaxes its hold upon his sword, and his 
heart melts before the irresistible earnestness of the 
fair suppliant. Surely that is a picture worthy the 
pencil of a first-rate artist. 

Or think of that scene that occurred the following 
morning, when the heroic, unappreciated, superior 
wife sought her miserably inferior husband, who, all 



212 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


pale and trembling from his last night’s drunken de¬ 
bauch, as she tells him how near exterminating de¬ 
struction was upon him, and how her own unloved 
hand had averted it, petrifies with cowardly horror. 
On the one side, see that noble woman, now pale- 
faced and solemn as eternity ; on the other, that ter¬ 
rified churl, and tell me, would not that picture, 
drawn by a master-hand, be worthy of a place in any 
gallery of art ? 

II.—I do not doubt but that one question concern¬ 
ing Abigail, has arisen in every thoughtful, atten¬ 
tive mind. It is this— how did this glorious womcm 
ever become the wife of this churlish man ? Sure-1 
am, that it was not of her own choice. For she had 

a good understanding,” and that would have pre¬ 
vented her from making such a mistake. But the 
question is answered, when we remember that in 
those days marriage alliances were contracted by 
parents for their daughters. And there were two 
things in regard to Nabal, which commended him 
to the parents of Abigail, and would have commend¬ 
ed him to many parents now-a-days. 

One was— he belonged to a distinguished family; 
indeed, the most distinguished in Israel. He was a 
descendant of the noble Caleb, the coadjutor of 
Joshua ; to whom, on account of his faithfulness, 
Joshua gave the whole district of Maon, to be his 
and his descendants’ forever. He was also a de¬ 
scendant of a Prince of Midian, Hohab, Moses’ father- 



THE SUPERIOR WIFE. 


213 


in-law. This we learn from 1 Chronicles 2 : 55— 
Judges 1 : 14—Ex. 2 : 14. Then, Nahahs escut¬ 
cheon was illustrious, from the fact that he sprang 
from Hamath, who was the father of Eechab, whose 
son, Jonadab, commanded his son saying, Ye shall 
drink no wine, ye nor your sons forever and of 
whose descendants God said by Jeremiah, Because 
ye have obeyed the command of your father, there¬ 
fore the son of Eechab shall not want a son to stand 
before me forever.^^ These Eechabites were the 
first teetotallers in the world ; and their teetotalism 
brought upon them the benediction of Almighty 
God. Habal was a branch of this temperance family, 
though he was intemperate himself. Alas, this is 
not the only instance where temperance families 
have drunken connections. 

The other fact in regard to Nabal which commend¬ 
ed him to Abigail’s parents, as a suiter for the fair 
hand of their daughter, was this —he had money — 
he was a rich man —he owned a large district of 
country. To many parents, and many daughters, 
there has always been an irresistible potentiality in 
this qualification of a suitor. To their view money 
covers up a multitude of sins. Its radiance makes 
an ugly man handsome. Its precious weight easily 
supplies a lack of the weight of character. Ah ! it 
hath tremendous power among men and women too. 
I do not wonder that the quaint Thomas Hood thus 
sang of it :— 



214 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


‘.‘Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! 

Bright and yellow, hard and cold; 

Molten, graven, hammered and rolled ; 

Heavy to get, and light to hold ; 

Hoarded, battered, bought and sold ; 

Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled; 

Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old 

To the very verge of the church-yard mould; 

Price of many a crime untold. 

Gold! Gold! Gold'. Gold!” 

This poetry reminds us of that famous expression 
in Virgil’s ^niad, 0 cursed desire of gold, what 
dost thou not force mortal hearts to do !” A fear¬ 
ful mistake do those parents make who early imbue 
into the minds of their daughters an undue appre¬ 
ciation of wealth, which leads them to look with 
contempt upon the young man, however pure, indus¬ 
trious or honorable he may be, against whom nothing 
can he said, excepting—that he is poor. Horrible 
mistakes do those parents make, who, like Abigail, 
barter away their daughters to suitors who have 
nothing to commend them but what Nabal had, a 
distinguished ancestry and great wealth. What 
avails it how high a man’s family be if he be low 
himself? What avails it how distinguished soever 
his ancestry may be for patriotism and virtue, if he 
be distinguished for nothing but conceited churlish¬ 
ness and debasing vice ? What avails it how much 
wealth of money he may possess, if he be poor in 
all those elements that make up a man ? Can 
ancestry or wealth cover up mental imbecility and 



THE SUPERIOR WIFE. 


215 


moral baseness ? Can these pay a pure woman 
for the absence of that generous love of a manly 
heart, which alone can supply the deathless yearn¬ 
ings of her nature, smooth the roughest paths of 
human life, wreath rainbows around its blackest 
clouds, fling roses on its most desert wastes, dry up 
sorrow's bitterest tears, sustain in hours of sickness 
and languishing as with a giant's power ; that im¬ 
mortal affection which makes life's heaviest burdens 
light, its longest journeys short, and finally smooths 
her dying pillow, tenderly wipes the gathering death- 
dew from her pallid brow, and loads her departing 
spirit with sweet benedictions ? Nay ! nay ! gold 
cannot buy happiness, and parents who compel their 
daughters to marry for money, or station, commit a 
grievous sin against humanity and Grod. And the 
woman who marries a churl for his wealth will find 
that she has made a terrible bargain ; that all the 
glitterings of heartless grandeur are but the phos¬ 
phorescent gleamings of heart-wretchedness, that 
her life will be one of gilded misery, and her old 
age will be like a crag on the bleak side of a desert 
mountain, where cold moonbeams sometimes glitter, 
but no sunshine ever falls, no flowers bloom, no 
birds sing, but wild storms howl and hoarse thun¬ 
ders roar ; .and through the sweeping storm shall be 
heard the stern voice of the Great God, saying. 
Your riches are corrupted, your garments are 
moth-eaten, your gold and silver are cankered, and 



216 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


the rust of them shall be a witness against you and 
eat your flesh as it were flre.^^ 

III.—In the conduct of Abigail, women in similar 
circumstances may see their duty illustrated. And 
are there not many such ? Are there not many 
high-minded, noble women tied up by irrevocable 
vows to low, vicious men ? Yea, verily ! 

Many there are, who, in all the freshness and pu¬ 
rity of their blooming womanhood, have become al¬ 
lied to men in every way inferior to them—mere 
modern Nabals; inferior to them in mind and in¬ 
telligence ; and inflnitely below them in virtue and 
moral character. Many there are, who, when mar¬ 
ried, stood upon a moral equality, between whom in 
after years the disparity has become heaven and 
earth wide. Husbands there are, who, by indulging 
their temper, have become changed from magnani¬ 
mous kindness, to snarling, crabbed, peevish churl¬ 
ishness. Others there are, who, by their own lack 
of industry and thrift, bring their families to want, 
and then growl at their wives on account of house¬ 
hold destitution. And others still there are, who 
become addicted to the vice of intemperance, as 
Nabal did, which deprives them of every attribute 
of a noble manhood, and gradually transforms them 
into loathsome human beasts. 

Ah ! a vision rises before me ! I see a mamage 
circle. Amid a crowd of joyous guests, before the 
minister of God, stands a noble youth : the purity 



THE SUPERIOR WIFE. 


217 


of fresh manhood is on his brow ; blended intelli¬ 
gence and love beam from his eyes ; health's roses 
bloom on his cheek ; strength and dignity radiate 
from his manly form. By him stands.a bride : the 
orange blossom is in her raven hair ; her form is 
arrayed in purest white ; her radiant eyes are veiled 
by downcast lashes ; her fair cheek is pale as a lily; 
while her young heart flutters like a bird of Paradise 
in a golden cage. They join hand in hand, and a 
solemn voice, in the name of God, pronounces them 
husband and wife. I join the congratulations, and 
say, God bless you, noble pair ; and may your fu¬ 
ture prove all that your rose-hued imaginations 
paint it \” That vision passeth ; another cometh. 

Years have rolled away. Youth has matured 
into middle age. In yon pale mother I recognize 
the bride of former years. She hath changed, but it 
is merely from youthful to matronly womanhood.— 
Her little ones are reposing in the soft slumbers of 
childhood. She is alone ; but as the night advances 
she listens eagerly for approaching footsteps. As 
she lifts her head, I see trouble in her eye and pal¬ 
lor on her cheek ; and lo ! a big tear courses its 
pearly way down her face. She listens, she waits ; 
she waits, she listens. At length she hears a 
sound ; dashing away the tear, she opens the door, 
and a man staggers in. Who is that drunken man? 
Ah ! she bursts into a flood of tears : it is her hus¬ 
band. Her worst fears are realized ; the father of 



218 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


her children is becoming a drunkard ! God pity thee, 
poor wife, and God have mercy on thy sleeping babes. 
That vision also passeth, and still another cometh. 

Oh ! I shrink from it ! Dreary desolation strews 
the sombre, night-hued scene. But I must describe 
it. That once plentiful home is now the abode of 
want and poverty. Bum hath done its damned 
work; robbed that once noble husband of reputa¬ 
tion, of property, of health, of manhood, and made 
him the dread of his children, an object of terror to 
his wife, who, by the labor of her own hands, now 
earns her own and her children's bread ; and of 
whose hard earnings she is often robbed to suppl}'- 
her husband's insatiate appetite for drink. Still 
lower, and lower, and lower I see them sink in pov¬ 
erty and misery. Her strength begins to fail ; and 
oh, she would willingly die ; but who then would 
care for her children ? —who, though clad in the 
tatters of poverty, are as dear to her as the life- 
drops of her fainting heart. She will live on, weep, 
on, pray on. Worse than widowed wife ! Worse 
than orphaned children ! My heart bleeds for you ; 
my hands stretch out toward you ; my prayers as¬ 
cend to God on your behalf ! 

These are no visions of a disordered imagination. 
Their originals may be found in unnumbered in¬ 
stances, all through our land. And sad to tell, their 
number is being fearfully multiplied. Uncounted 
is the number of superior women, like Abigail, who 



THE SUPERIOR WIFE. 


219 


are bound by life vows to inferior men like Nabal^ 
and far greater still is the number of kind, true wo¬ 
men, whose husbands have become their inferiors 
through the terrible influence of one of Nabahs 
vices—intemperance. 

Now the point before us is, that in the conduct 
of Ahigaily women thus situated see their duty il¬ 
lustrated. 

How did this noble wife of a drunken churl de¬ 
port herself.? Did some well-dressed, soft-spoken, 
promise-making, but false-hearted devil in a gentle¬ 
manly form lead her away from the path of virtue 
into the hell-ward road of sin ? Nay, nay ! Did 
she allow her husband's harshness to spoil her own 
temper ? or chafe, and fret, and scold, and by other 
exhibitions of unkindness give him a seeming pre¬ 
text for his wickedness ? Did she make his home 
unattractive, or her person disagreeable, or ueglect 
his interests ? or by bitter complaints aggravate his 
coarse nature ? Verily not ! 

Study her history closely, and you will find that 
she did all for him she could have done, had he been 
all he ought to have been to her. Even when his 
servant told her what his master had done, and the 
consequent danger impending over all, you do not 
find her pouring her grief into that servant's ear, 
but maintaining silence in regard to what she dare 
not deny. She aroused her strong woman's energy 
to save her husband’s life and property. And in 



220 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


that scene of which I drew a word-picture, where 
David was coming down from Mount Paran, and 
Abigail with her gifts from Carmel ; remember, 
her object was to allay the indignation of David, 
which she could hut admit to be just, and therefore 
it was essential to her purpose to frankly acknow¬ 
ledge that her husband was the foolish man David 
had found him to he, and that the fault was wholly 
his. This undeniable concession, under the circum¬ 
stances, was as shrewd as it was kind, for she saved 
thus the life of her husband. 

Study her history closely, and you will perceive 
that until the day of Nahal’s death—though un¬ 
loved, unappreciated, neglected and oftentimes 
abused—-amid it all she was evermore to him a true, 
faithful, devoted wife. Copy her example, all ye 
who are in similar circumstances. Like her, be true, 
and kind, and faithful. Like her, do what you can 
to make your home attractive, and by soft words 
and tender regards, strive to win your husband back 
to virtue and to happiness. Fret not, scold not, ex¬ 
cite not by worse than useless recriminations. And 
perchance ye shall be their saviors—as really, though 
not in the same way as Abigail saved Nabal. Ah, 
many a man there is, who once was the victim of 
intemperance and kindred debasing vices, but who 
to-day sits in the house of God a virtuous, sober 
man—stands in community a respectable citizen, 
saved from poverty and crime—redeemed from the 



THE SUPERIOR WIIE. 


221 


galliug fetters of enslaving vice by the unwearied de¬ 
votion of an Abigail-wife. Or if success may not 
crown your efforts, still do your duty tenderly, per- 
severingly, faithfully, prayerfully. Let the God of 
Abigail be your God, your support, your consola¬ 
tion. Cleave unto Him, and He will never forsake 
you. He will nerve you in hours of weakness, com¬ 
fort you in hours of sorrow, and show you the 
mightiness of His grace in its power to make you 
equal to your day—dark, stormy and troublous 
though it be. 

And 0 remember, that life’s longest, most sorrow¬ 
ful day will close. The shadow of the death-night 
will come, and forget not that— 

“There is an hour of peaceful rest 
To mourning wanderers given; 

There is a joy for souls distressed, 

A balm for every wounded breast; 

’Tis found alone in heaven. 

There is a home for weary souls, 

By sins and sorrows driven. 

When tossed on life’s tempestuous shoals, 

When storms arise, and ocean rolls, 

And all is drear—’tis heaven. 

There faith lifts up the tearless eye, 

The heart no longer riven,— 

And views the tempest passing by, 

Sees evening shadows quickly fly, 

And all’s serene in heaven. 



222 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, 
And joys supreme are given; 

There rays divine disperse the gloom; 
Beyond the dark and narrow tomb 
Appears the dawn of heaven.” 





SHEBA’S QUEEN 


SSise ® Oman 


1 Kings 10: 1: “ And when the Queen of Sheba heard of the fame 
of Solomon, concerning the name of the Lord ; she came to prote 
him with hard questions. 

A LADY friend remarked, There is so little said 
in the Bible respecting the Queen of Sheba, that I 
wonder how you can lecture upon her/' That was 
a thoughtful and significant expression. True, but 
little is said of her; some might think the brief 
record insignificant : but is anything in nature or 
in the Bible insignificant ? Whenever we speak of 
anything in nature as small or insignificant, we 
speak comparatively, referring to its relative, and 
not its absolute importance ; for there is not a parti¬ 
cle of air, whether whispering in zephyrs, or wailing 
in blasts: nor atom of matter, whether glittering 
in the gem that sparkles on the breast of beauty, 
or giving nutriment to the deep sunken root of the 
oak ; whether it goes to constitute the flower that 




224 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


blooms unseen/^ or to make up the pine-tree that 
sighed over the home of your youth ; 

“ There is no weed flung from the rock to sail 
Where’er the surge may sweep or tempest breath prevail 

or tiny insect that floats for an hour in the sun¬ 
beams, and then is seen no more ; there is nothing 
above, around, beneath us, however apparently in¬ 
significant, which is not essential to God^s idea of 
this world. Drops make up the ocean, and sands 
the ocean's shore. Atoms constitute the globe, and 
the globe is but an atom in the formation of a 
universe. 

Thus as in God's material world, we find it in 
God's Bible. How many apparently small things 
you find here recorded. Some have thought this 
unworthy of a book claiming to be written by in¬ 
spiration of Deity ; but in this, is it not like His 
book of Nature ? Look over the world, and you 
will see but few vast mountain elevations, while there 
are innumerable hillocks ; but few great rivers, while 
there are innumerable rivulets ; but few broad oceans, 
while there are innumerable lakes ; but few mighty 
cataracts—God thought one like Niagara, enough 
for a Continent—while there are innumerable water¬ 
falls. So in the Bible, we discover mountain eleva¬ 
tions and ocean depths of truth ; ever-flowing rivers 
of consolation ; cataract flashings of indignation and 
denunciations ; but these are intermingled with 



SHEBA’S QUEEN. 


225 


scenes of soft beauty ; echoes of living voices ; fra¬ 
grance of richest flowers of truth, found in records 
of individual life or national history. It requires 
but a comprehensive understanding on our part to 
perceive, that as in Nature, so here, every apparent¬ 
ly small portion is a part of one grand whole ; that 
all are requisite to the perfection of God’s idea of a 
book for the world. The record, brief indeed, of a 
visit of a queen to a king, may at first seem unim¬ 
portant ; but as we proceed, I trust you will find it 
full of information in regard to those distant lands, 
and equally full of instruction to us all. 

It is my first duty, preparative to what I have to 
say regarding the Queen of Sheba, to glance at the 
history and character of the king she visited. His 
father, David, had been a man of war, whose prowess 
had overawed the enemies of Israel, and whose en¬ 
terprise had vastly increased its wealth, and enlarged 
its domain. At his death, Solomon, though only 
eighteen years old, ascended the throne and reigned 
forty years. His name signifies the naturally pacific 
character of his mind, with which the placid state 
of national affairs was eminently congenial. His 
first public act, was to build a temple unto the 
Lord, in obedience to the injunction of his dying 
father. He located it on Mount. Moriah, and in its 
architectural grandeur, and ornamental wealth, it 
has never been surpassed. During seven years and 

a half the huge edifice arose in silence. Enormous 
10 * 



226 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


stones were so hewn and fitted that they were put 
together without the sound of an axe or a ham¬ 
mer.” 


“No workman’s steel, no ponderous axes rung, 

Like some tall palm, the noiseless fabric sprung.” 

By vast public works, before unknown in Judea, he 
gave a mighty impulse to all the industrial arts.— 
By establishing commercial relations with distant 
nations, he elevated the commerce of Israel to an 
equality with that of any other people ; and his 
treasury overfiowed with almost inconceivable wealth. 

Moreover, he possessed eminent wisdom. For 
this he had prayed to God, and the fame of it had 
reached the uttermost parts of the earth.” His 
knowledge of natural philosophy, of the art of gov¬ 
ernment, his general information and practical wis¬ 
dom—developed in his three thousand proverbs— 
placed him high among the world’s sages, and his 
ten hundred and five poems ranked him among the 
first of Eastern poets : in a word, such was the gor¬ 
geousness of his palaces, the splendor of his court, 
the number of his attendants, the vastness of his 
public operations, the prosperity of his government, 
the pomp of his public occasions, the homage paid 
him by surrounding nations, the dignity of his per¬ 
son, the variety of his accomplishments, and the 
peaceableness of his reign, that the phrase, The 
glory of Solomon,” became familiar in the literature 



Sheba's queen. 


227 


of all civilized lands. Eight millions of people glo¬ 
ried in being his subjects ; and, having married a 
daughter of Pharaoh, he became allied to the proud 
potentate of the Nile, and thus reached the loftiest 
round in the ladder of human ambition. 

A distinguished writer has declared it to be a 
general truth, “ that every man has a dark period 
in his career, of longer or shorter continuance, 
whether it be publicly known or not." I presume 
this statement will hold good as a general truth : 
certain it is, that Solomon, whom Coleridge calls 
the grand monarque of Israel," sinned deeply and 
darkly. The fall of a tree is proportioned to its 
size, height, and breadth of its ramifications. The 
puny cedar may fall unnoticed ; but when the huge, 
hundred-branched oak falls, the crash, sounding 
like crushing thunders, frightens birds and beasts, 
and awakens distant echoes ; and yet the unobserved 
wreck of the insignificant cedar levels it upon the 
same cold ground where lies the prostrate forest- 
king. The fall of Solomon was proportioned to the 
elevation of his personal and oflicial dignity ; that 
was so lofty, that his moral wreck filled the world 
with dismay, and its sad echoes yet reverberate 
wherever his history is known. His character was 
collossal in every respect, therefore when he sinned, 
it was with a high hand ; and when the awful how 
of remorse came, his groans sounded like those of 
a demi-god in torment ;" thus in virtue and vice, 



228 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


he was equally great. Like a pyramid, the shadow 
he cast in one direction was as vast as the light ho 
received in the other.'' 

Do you ask what corrupted this noble man, whose 
boyhood and early manhood were models of purity— 
on whose young head a pious father’s benedictions 
were pronounced—and who, in his twenty-eighth 
year, amid the gathered thousands of Israel, dedi¬ 
cated, by solemn rites, the glorious temple to its 
more glorious Grod ? Do young men ask, ‘‘ What 
was the rock in life's broad ocean, upon which this 
splendid, heavy-freighted vessel dashed and was 
wrecked ?” I answer, in warning tones—it was 
luxurious indulgence / This gradually undermined 
the moral foundations of his character—weakened 
the power of his moral principles—Dejilah-like, 
sheared him of his Sampson locks, and made him 
fall an easy prey to debasing vice. What a lesson 
this teaches ! And for this purpose, God hath re¬ 
corded it in the Bible, that all men, of all time, 
may read it. I say, what a lesson it teaches us of 
the inefficiency of mere position in society ; of mere 
cultivation of taste and intellect; of wealth and 
reputation, to guard against moral contamination. 
Oh ! we see that these alone form as poor a protec¬ 
tion from the storm of temptation as a tent of spi¬ 
der-web to a traveler seeking shelter from the pit¬ 
iless tempest. I need to call your attention to but 
one more fact in this connection, and that is an im- 



Sheba's queen. 


229 


portant one. Solomon did not become a corrupt 
man until long after the visit of Sheba’s Queen.— 
Bear in mind that he reigned forty years, and that 
it was not until the thirtieth year of his reign that 
he becarne corrupt. This visit was before he had 
reigned twenty years, while he sustained the charac¬ 
ter of a religious man, a pure husband and father, 
a just, enterprising, and wondrously wise king. It 
was at the culmination of his glory, while his fame, 
like a sun, was flinging its dazzling splendors over 
the world, when it attracted the legal mind and 
heart of the Queen of the South. But who was 
this Southern Queen ? Tradition says that her 
name was Balkis ; and we know that she sat on the 
throne of Sheba—her native land. 

The locality of this country has been contro¬ 
verted. Inasmuch as Ham’s son Cush, who had a 
descendant called Seba, and settled in Africa—now 
called Ethiopia—many have believed that she came 
thence. This view, however, is now generally aban¬ 
doned. The popular belief is, that inasmuch as 
Abraham’s grandson, Sheba, by Ketura, settled in 
the southern part of Arabia—located between the 
Bed Sea and the Indian Ocean—from whom the 
country was called in ancient times, Sabea, and in 
modern times by geographers, Arabia Felix ; and 
by poets, ‘‘ Araby the blest,” but now bears the 
name of Yemen, that this was the locality of Solo¬ 
mon’s royal visitor’s home. It ought, however, to 



^30 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


be borne in mind, that ancient Ethiopia was not con¬ 
fined to the limits of the country that now bears 
that name, it included a part, at least, of Arabia; so 
that while Balkis may have reigned over a portion of 
ancient, she did not reside in modern Ethiopia. The 
division of Arabia over which she reigned is as large 
as the whole of New England and New York. In 
contrast with other portions, it has always been dis¬ 
tinguished for beauty, fertility, mineral wealth, 
gums, perfumes, and spices. The richest spices 
used in this country come from that oriental clime. 
Your Mocha coffee comes from the land where the 
Queen of Sheba lived ; where still the palm, orange, 
sycamore and apricot abound ; where still dwells 
the antelope, the gazelle and gorgeous birds of every 
hue. The Persian Gulf on the one side, furnishes 
the finest pearls, and the Ked Sea on the other, the 
richest corals. It is her country of which Milton 
says— 

“ To them who sail 

Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 
Mozambique, off at sea north-east winds blow 
Sahean odors from the spicy shore 
Of Araby the blest.” 

It is her land which is thus described in Lpllal 
Kookh— 

“ Glistening shells, of every dye 
Upon the margin of the Red Sea lie. 

Each brilliant bird that wings the air is seen; 

Gay, sparkling loories, such as gleam between 



Sheba’s queen. 


231 


The crimson blossoms of the coral tree, 

In the warm isles of India’s sunny sea; 

And those that under Araby’s soft sun 
Build their high nest of budding cinnamon, 

In short, all rare and beauteous things that fly 
Through the pure element, here calmly lie 
Sleeping on light.” 

In the Bible we have no account of the personal 
appearance of the Queen of this beautiful country, 
but it may interest you to know, that Baron De 
Sarrey, surgeon-general of Napoleon’s army in 
Egypt, wrote thus of the people who still Kve in 
that land : “ Their physical structure is, in all re¬ 
spects, more perfect than that of Europeans, their 
figure, robust and elegant, and their intelligence 
proportionate to their physical perfection.” 

You may ask, Why did she leave her home, and 
'hrone, to visit Jerusalem and Solomon Every 
pure and ingenuous mind will be satisfied, while re¬ 
membering that impartial history has left no spot 
upon her fair fame, remembering the unsullied 
character Israel’s king then possessed, and the tes¬ 
timony borne as to her purpose by the immaculate 
Jesus—nearly a thousand years after her death— 
when he said, She came to see the wisdom of Solo¬ 
mon.” I say every pure mind will believe the re¬ 
cord which says, When the Queen of Sheba heard 
of the fame of Solomon concerning the name of the 
Lord, she came to prove him with hard questions.” 
Doubtless she had become dissatisfied with the reli¬ 
gious system in which she had been educated—un- 



232 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


able as that system was to answer the great ques¬ 
tions that rose up within her mind—ui'vable as it 
was to satisfy the yearnings of her immortal nature, 
which clamored for a purer enjoyment than luxu¬ 
rious ease could afford in the present life, and for 
something grander and more exalted in the life to 
come, than the transmigration of Hindoo philoso¬ 
phy, or the sublimated sensualities of an Arabian’s 
heaven could promise ; and having heard of the 
wisdom of the man of the north, she resolved tem¬ 
porarily to leave her throne and gorgeous home to 
visit him, and find that wisdom she could obtain 
from no other source. Noble woman ! her mind, in 
its capacity and thought, was far ahead of her age. 
It must be remembered, that at the time con¬ 
siderable trade was carried on between her country 
and Judea—caravans came and went from Sheba— 
Solomon’s ships ploughed the adjacent Ked Sea, and 
doubtless it was through these means that she heard 
the wondrous history of the Israelites, and the 
more wondrous history of their monarch. The pre¬ 
parations for her journey were made on a scale com¬ 
mensurate with her official dignity, and committing 
her government to some trustworthy officer, and se¬ 
lecting her richest gems, gold and spices, summon¬ 
ing a retinue of her finest soldiers and best servants, 
she commenced her journey to Canaan. 

From other sources we know the traveled route 
from Sheba to Judea, which must have been the one 



sheba's queen. 


233 


that Balkis and her retinue passed over. Her course 
at first lay between the Ked Sea and the Porphyry 
mountains : the first city she met was what is now 
called Mecca, where then stood a pagan temple with 
three hundred and sixty images—now of course a 
Mahomedan sanctuary. Then she passed the burn¬ 
ing springs, which are surrounded by perpetual 
vegetation. The second city she passed is what is 
called Medina, where is now the tomb of Mahomet, 
with its four hundred columns and three hundred 
lamps, which are kept constantly burning ; a few 
days travel beyond that brought her in view of 
Mount Horeb and Sinai. With what awe must she 
have looked upon their desolateness ! for traditions 
of the awful scenes enacted there, embellished with 
all the copiousness of a luxuriant oriental fancy, 
doubtless had reached her ears and invested them 
with an indefinable, strange mysteriousness. Next 
arose before her the hills of Arabia, beyond which 
she entered upon the barren desert, and traversing 
its sandy wastes, she came to the Dead Sea, in whose 
waveless bosom cities lie entombed ; then fording 
the ever-flowing Jordan she entered into Canaan— 
and inasmuch as southern caravans always went 
northward in the spring, Judea must have looked 
surpassingly beautiful in its spring-tide luxuriance, 
for the winter was past and gone, fiowers and sing¬ 
ing birds appeared, the voice of the turtle-dove was 
heard in the land, the fig-tree was putting forth its^ 



234 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


green figs, and the vines their tender grapes, perfum¬ 
ing all the air. Then directing her course towards 
Jerusalem, she came to the Mount of Olives, upon 
whose sacred height, one thousand years afterward, 
our Saviour wept over a degenerate nation, and 
passing over the same road he so often traveled 
on his way to Bethany, she reached its summit, 
where far-famed, hill-throned Jerusalem burst upon 
her eagar gaze. Descending the mountain and cross¬ 
ing the brook Kedron, she was received by Solomon 
with a cordiality and splendor worthy of the most 
regal monarch on the globe. Her journey com¬ 
pleted in safety, her welcome all that her woman's 
heart could have desired, after the requisite repose, 
she sought that wisdom, to know which, had been 
the object of her visit. 

She could learn the wisdom of Solomon from two 
sources : 

First—From his works. These were all around 
her; and in the architectural grandeur of his edi¬ 
fices, the beauty of his ivory throne, with its twelve 
carved lions, in the splendor of his chariots, and 
twelve thousand horsemen ; in the taste displayed 
in his gardens of pomegranates and cinnamon ; his 
orchards filled with fruits of every kind, and abound¬ 
ing with gushing fountains and placid pools ; in the 
order of his vast household ; the peace and prosper¬ 
ity of his people ; his encouragement of the arts ; 
in these, I say, she saw the practical developments 



SHEBA'S QUEEN. 


235 


of that wisdom, whose fame had reached the ut¬ 
termost parts of the earth.'' 

Second—From himself. We read, ^Hhat when 
she came to him, she communed with him of all that 
she had in her heart." She told him of the great 
themes on which that heart loved to dwell, hut in 
regard to which she was unsatisfied. Adopting the 
Eastern method, she propounded to him riddles, 
problems, fables, apologues, and allegories. To 
these he responded, developing all the resources of 
his knowledge, and the dexterity of his wisdom.— 
The result of this two-fold development, in words 
and works, so overpowered Sheba's Queen, that 
there was no more spirit in her and she said. 
It was a true report that I heard in mine own 
land of thy acts and thy wisdom. Howbeit, I be¬ 
lieved not the words until I came, and my eyes had 
seen it ; and behold ! the half was not told me.— 
Thy wisdom and prosperity exceedeth the fame 
which I heard. Happy are thy men, happy are 
these thy servants which stand continually before 
thee, and that hear thy wisdom ! Blessed be the 
Lord thy God, which delighted in thee to set thee 
on the throne of Israel; because the Lord loved Is¬ 
rael forever, therefore made he thee king, to do 
judgment and justice." Then having presented the 
munificent gifts she had brought with her, she re¬ 
turned to her distant home. 

This Scripture sketch is profitable to us— 



236 


EEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


1. Because it presents to us a woman occupying 
a different station from any we have yet contemplated 
in these lectures. It is— 

Woman on the throne of empire. History shows 
that there is no station in life which at some time 
has not been occupied by a female—from the low¬ 
liest to the loftiest. 

Deborah was a judge in Israel in her day, as truly 
as Samuel was in his. Many a diadem has sparkled 
upon the female brow—Semiramis in Assyria, Zeno- 
bia in Palmyra, Catharine in Russia, Elizabeth in 
England, Isabella in Spain, Joanna in Sicily, Maria 
Theresa in Austria : these and many others have 
graced the thrones upon which they sat, shed addi¬ 
tional lustre on their country's glory, and blessed 
the age in which they lived. Jael, the destroyer of 
Sisera—her country’s foe ; Joan of Arc, who fought 
her nation’s battles ; Martha Glar, the heroine of 
Switzerland, who led two hundred women to the ' 
gory field of Eran-en-brun, in defense of Liberty ; 
Volumnia and Virgilia, the mother and wife of Oo- 
riolanus, who saved Rome by their appeal to the 
heart of the indignant warrior ; Lady Jane Grey, 
who preferred imprisonment and death rather than 
have English blood shed in defense of her claims.— 
Unnumbered women—our own fore-mothers—during: 
Revolutionary periods, exhibited in a thousand in¬ 
stances all the elements of highest heroism. 

This fact in the history of women indicates the 



SHEBA'S QUEEN. 


237 


capacity of the female mindy properly educated, to 
meet any exigency to whicli the providence of God 
may call it. There are to-day only two queens— 
Isabella of Spain, and Victoria of England. The 
question may arise in your mind. Why is the num¬ 
ber of females who occupy high ofScial, political sta¬ 
tions, less now than ever before ? And why is it 
that as civilization advances the impression deepens 
on the public mind that such positions are not wo¬ 
man's truest and noblest ones ? I answer—it is 
not because a lighter estimate is placed upon female 
mind and character than before, but because in the 
history of Providences, and the development of our 
own being, the true spheres of both sexes are bet¬ 
ter defined, and it is found that these spheres are 
worthy of the largest capacities, and the highest 
ambition of both sexes. 

Man's sphere—by the rougher constitution of his 
nature—is the more public one ; that of woman— 
by her more delicate organization—the more private, 
but not the less honorable, or requiring the less 
ability. Study the history of the world, and you 
will find that God has never called woman out of 
that sphere, only on occasions of signal necessity, 
great exigencies, when men were not to be found 
equal to the task. If such public exigencies arise 
again, when men are either so debased or so self- 
immolated that God cannot use them to perform 
Work that legitimately belongs to them. He will find 



238 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


heroic women adequate to the performance of that 
work. Hereafter, perchance, no women like Balkis 
of Arahy the Blest,'' or Victoria of England, will 
ever sit upon the throne of political empire. But 
shall her sex, on that account, be dishonored ? their 
pride mortified ? Verily not; for as civilization 
advances, woman shall be queen in a higher, nobler 
sense : she shall be queen swaying an imperial scep¬ 
tre over the human heart. She shall be queen of 
home, that sweet realm still spared of man's forfeited 
paradise, out of which go influences that govern the 
world. In that empire no gazette will herald her 
victories ; no prices current show her gains ; no 
California gold or Brazilian diamonds constitute her 
diadem ; no rolling drums or pealing trumpets make 
her music ; no fawning courtiers, or political dema¬ 
gogues, or armed soldiery be her attendants ; but to 
the eye of God and of humanity, her trophies of 
goodness, her quiet gains of godliness, her coronet 
of virtue, her sceptre of love, her music of home- 
voices, her husband and children, shall be her glory 
—more permanent and glorious than the gore-drip¬ 
ping laurels won by warriors on battle fields, or those 
gained by royalty amid the intrigues and pomp of 
courts. 

This sketch is profitable, I remark, 

2. Because of the intellectual character of the wo¬ 
man it brings before us. 

If Balkis was superior to most of her sex at that 



sheba's queen, 


239 


period, ia official station, this, after all, was not her 
chief superiority ; that lay not in anything external 
to her; not in the gorgeous throne on which she 
sat ; not in the jeweled diadem that sparkled on her 
brow ; not in the royal palace in which she lived ; 
not in the vast wealth of her treasury, the number 
of her happy subjects ; nor the fertility of her beau¬ 
tiful country, but in herself^ in her own mind and 
heart. Of herself she was superior to all these ex¬ 
ternalities ; for we find her soul not sleeping in the 
low animal life of the senses ; her mind not occupied 
with fashion, dress, and display ; her heart not set 
upon the gay amusements of the passing hour ; but 
we find her conscious of the hollow emptiness of all 
these ; awake to the superior dignity of her mental 
and moral nature, desirous of obtaining knowledge, 
of learning wisdom. 

She has exhausted the learning of her own sages, 
she has fathomed the depths of Arabian philosophy ; 
she has grasped all the breadths of a gorgeous Pagan 
mythology ; she has soared far above the loftiest 
fiights of oriental poetry ; she is familiar with all 
the glowing romance, which springs up so luxuriant¬ 
ly from Arabian ideality. The praises of courtiers, 
and an admiring people are continually in her ears, 
but she is dissatisfied ; there is still a void within 
her soul which these cannot fill. She hears rumors 
of wisdom, high and lofty, possessed by the Jewish 
monarch ; gleamings of a strange northern light 



240 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


have fallen upon her spirit : but it is dim, it is far 
off, in a distant clime. This would have discouraged 
an inferior woman ; hut Balkis is not such an one, 
therefore undismayed by the perils before her, un- 
terrified, woman though she is, by intervening moun¬ 
tains, desert wastes, and hridgeless rivers, she de¬ 
termines upon a journey which will take her away 
from the peaceful luxuries of home ; a journey 
which, in going and returning, will require her to 
travel some three thousand miles, and sucli are the 
poor facilities, that even a queen can command, it 
will require nearly four months of time to consum¬ 
mate her purpose : and heroine that she was, she 
accomplished it, in order that she might acquire 
knowledge and learn superior wisdom. 0, how this 
fact in her history, all radiant as it is with death¬ 
less glory, eclipses the mere dignity of her official 
station, and the physical splendor of her surround¬ 
ings ! And so grateful was she for the benefits she 
had received, that she presented Solomon gold, 
amounting to one hundred and twenty talents, and 
immense gifts of valuable spices, and precious stones. 
In this, is she not an example for us all, and es;pe- 
dally for her own sex ? Is it not a mournful truth, 
not to be concealed, that many females, especially 
young women, of the present day, are unlike Sheba's 
queen in this respect ? Is it not an undeniable 
truth, that the daughters of wealthy families, to 
whom the sources of knowledge are all open, are 



sheba’s queen. 


241 


%'igU glad when their boarding school is finished, 
and then give themselves up to fashionable display 
and worldly hilarities ? True, there are exceptions 
to this ; there are a few first-class scholars among 
our young country women, such as Mary Sommer- 
ville, whose learned book on The Connection of 
the Physical Sciences,'' has won for her a trans-At¬ 
lantic reputation—but after all, is not the general 
fact such as I have stated ? Is not the number of 
those who avail themselves of their opportunities of 
acquiring knowledge and seeking wisdom very few ? 
This is the reason why, in our best society," 
there are so many more artificial ladies than really 
wise women, while in other circles, where the oppor¬ 
tunities of education are far less, they are not im¬ 
proved as they ought to be. Do young women avail 
themselves of their opportunities as they might ? 
Doubtless some do, but the most do not. Many 
young girls are taught, and believe, that what they 
need, is fine clothing, gaudy jewelry, a polished ex¬ 
terior, graceful manners, and ability to talk and 
dance ; therefore their immortal natures are unde¬ 
veloped, and at best they become but fair superfi¬ 
cialities. 

Under this fatal mistake, many a young woman 
who cannot do a sum in the simplest mathematics, 
who knows no more of history than she does of sci¬ 
ence ; is as ignorant of literature as she is of the 

stars ; cannot parse a sentence, any more than she 
11 



242 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


could unravel an eastern hieroglyph ; has not even 
the ability to write a decent love-letter—is sent to 
dancing schools, where her feet are educated, while 
her head and her heart are left untaught, and un¬ 
cared for. How much the blame of this rests upon 
misguided parents, and a false public taste, God only 
knows : but these are mournful facts, over which 
every lover of humanity must weep. 

0, young woman, hear and believe me when I tell 
you, that your mind is superior to your body—the 
one an earthen casket, the other an immortal gem^ 
worth more than the material universe—hear and 
believe me when I tell you, that no external ac¬ 
complishment can make up, in the sight of God, or of 
a sensible man, for internal ignorance and uncultiva¬ 
tion : that you may get all that the milliner or dry- 
goods merchant, or jeweler, or perfumer can supply 
you with ; you may learn all that the most accom¬ 
plished dancing-master—good God, what an occu¬ 
pation for a man I —can teach ; you may be sur¬ 
rounded by all the gorgeousness which any station 
can throw around you, and yet, be empty-minded 
and hollow-hearted, be utterly destitute of all the 
elements of womanly glory, unqualified for the stern 
realities of life, unfit for those positions God meant 
you should occupy, unprepared to fulfill the high du¬ 
ties of the present state, or endure the agonies of a 
dying hour, or meet fearful realities of eternity. 
I speak not thus reproachfully, but in kind faithful- 



sheba’s queen. 


243 


ness. I appreciate genuine accomplishments ot* 
person and manners, but I plead for your nobler, 
higher nature, which these alone can never cultivate 
or develope. I plead for your mind with its God-like 
powers, capable of eternal expansion and acquisition 
—your mind, which is to live when your body shall 
have been food for worms, to live when from hea¬ 
ven’s imperial citadel shall toll the requiem of dead 
nature in the tomb of chaos laid”—for it I plead. 
Seek to cultivate it. Like Sheba’s Queen, let no ob¬ 
stacle deter you from the pursuit of true wisdom, 
which alone can develope and elevate you to an in¬ 
tellectual position worthy of your heaven-created 
womanhood. Avail yourselves of what advantages 
you have for acquiring information, for storing your 
intellect with the imperishable wealth of knowledge; 
seek for wisdom—practical and genuine wisdom—as 
for hidden treasure ; and if others will be the gay¬ 
decked, pleasure-seeking, sunbeam-loving, yet short¬ 
lived and useless butterflies of humanity, 0, be ye 
true women ! wise women ! humanity’s brightest 
ornaments, humanity’s nearest approximation to the 
celestial glory of God’s beautiful angels ! 

This historic sketch is also profltable to us— 

3. Because of the religious elements it embodies. 

I have developed her intellectual character. You 
have seen her an acquirer of general wisdom, but 
her intellect was only one segment in the circle of 
her being. In every human nature there are three 



244 


REPBESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


departments—the physical, the intellectual, and the 
moral or spiritual. The physical is the lowest. 
Your body is your most inferior part, for it allies you 
to mere animals. Your intellect is next highest in 
importance and dignity— 

“ There lies 

A talisman in intellect, which yields 
Celestial music, when the master hand 
Touches it cunningly.” 

Intellect elevates you far above the highest in¬ 
stincts of the animal ci-eation. But it is your moral 
nature, your highest, which allies you to Grod. 

Now, there is reason to believe that Balkis gave 
proper attention to her physical constitution—she 
must have been a healthy-bodied woman, or she 
could never have endured a journey which required 
months in going and returning, and which stretched 
over so great a distance. That she sought the cul¬ 
tivation of her intellect, the evidence I have ad¬ 
duced, is abundant. The question now is, did she 
'pay proper attention to her higher, her nohler, moral 
and spiritual nature ? Judge ye, with the follow¬ 
ing facts before you. What was one of the ele¬ 
ments of Solomon's wisdom that attracted her at¬ 
tention ? Let the Bible answer. It says, She 
heard of the fame of Solomon concerning the name 
of the Lord” Is not that richly suggestive ? Does 
it not indicate that she wanted to know of the true 
God ? It was then to know of Him, His nature, 



Sheba's queen. 


245 


her relation to him ; it was to obtain this highest 
of all wisdom, that formed one of the leading ob¬ 
jects of her journey. And remember, that when 
she was about to return to her own land, having 
seen the wisdom of Solomon, and been made ac¬ 
quainted with Israel's God, and his connection with 
the glory of the Hebrew nation, she uttered these 
expressive and memorable words, Blessed be the 
Lord thy God which delighteth in thee, because the 
Lord delighteth in Israel forever, he hath made thee 
king to do justice and judgment." 

Here I pause, and ask you to picture three scenes 
in her life. 

Let one he in Sheba. Balkis is on her throne, 
radiant with perfect health and gorgeous surround¬ 
ings. 

Let the second show Balkis a searcher after truth 
—the highly intellectual woman questioning Solo¬ 
mon on deep points in philosophy and general know¬ 
ledge. 

Let the last represent the splendid woman ap¬ 
pareled for her return journey, as with a grateful 
heart and beaming face, in which are commingled 
all the elements of sweetest beauty—she clasps 
her hands, turns her moistened eyes heaven¬ 
ward, while from her coral-lips issue praises and 
adorations of Jehovah, the God of the whole earth. 

Now, each of these pictures is beautiful, hut the 
last, combining all that is glorious in the first two, 
has the sujperadded glory of religion. 



246 


REPRESEl^TATIVE WOMEN. 


I have said now all I wish to in regard to the 
Queen of Sheba. I now bid public adieu to the 
brief Bible record of her history, over which I have 
lingered with profit to my own mind and heart at 
least. 

In conclusion, let me urge upon her sex the duty 
of copying her example, in this last important par¬ 
ticular. 0, woman, rest not satisfied with attend¬ 
ing to the culture of your body: it will fade like the 
leaf, which in its bright greenness fluttered in the 
summer breeze, but now, withered and torn from its 
parent bough, is swept away by the careering wind. 
Ah I that body on which you bestow so much care, 
ere long will lie pale, and cold, and dead, wrapt in 
its winding sheet and stretched out in its narrow 
coffin, it shall be deposited in the dark sepulchre, 
where the pale king of terrors sways his ghastly 
sceptre ; but— 

“ Strong as the death it masters, is the hope 
That onward looks to immortality; 

Let the frame perish, so the soul survive, 

Pure, spiritual, and loving.” 

0 woman ! rest not satisfied with the cultivation 
of your intellect, for there may be, and often is, 
high mental culture without moral purity, much 
less religious experience. But while, as Queen Bal- 
kis did, you pay proper attention to physical anc 
mental culture, like her seek to know God, and 
thus cultivate your higher, your immortal na- 



sheba’s queen. 


247 


^nre. And how far superior to hers are your op¬ 
portunities for doing this ! She had to travel thou¬ 
sand of miles to do it, hut grander revelations than 
she found are blazing all around you ; for in the 
Bible is greater wisdom than even Solomon ever knew : 

The Queen of the South shall rise up in the judg¬ 
ment with this generation, and condemn it, for she 
came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear 
the wisdom of Solomon ; and behold ! a greater 
than Solomoh'^s here.” In this book God is mani¬ 
fest in the flesh—here in the person of his son Jesus 
Christ—who is both the wisdom and power of God, 
is made manifest to you a Saviour—a loving, labor¬ 
ing, weeping, suffering, dying, atoning Saviour— 
who offers freely to make each of you “ wise unto 
salvation”—to remove your guilt, purify your hearts, 
fill them with ravishing joy ; make you adopted 
daughters of the Lord God Almighty. Yea, here is 
a Kedeemer, Christ the Lord, who offers to become 
your elder brother, as well as redeeming Saviour ; 
to clothe your naked souls with the white robe of his 
own righteousness—that robe which even the icy hand 
of death shall not be able to tear from your spirits 
—that justifying righteousness which shall open 
heaven’s crystal portals to you, and place on your 
immortal brows a crown of glory, far surpassing the 
jeweled coronet of Sheba’s Queen, and give you a 
throne, infinitely more exalted than that on whi<>’’ 
fche sat. 



248 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


0 woman ! surrounded by the allurements of a 
deceitful world ; exposed to the fascinations of god¬ 
less pleasures, wbich injure the health of the body, 
weaken the power of the mind, plant thorns in dy¬ 
ing pillows, shroud eternity with hopeless gloom : 
young woman ! sister ! exposed to dire temiDtations 
w^hich jeopardize your mortality and immortality— 
fly, oh, fly to those open arms which were once 
nailed to the bloody cross for thy redemption ! Take 
shelter in the love of that infinite heart whose mighty 
throbs yearn toward thy welfare ! Listen to those 
kind words which invite thee to Christ—to heaven ; 
and if you ever become a true Christian ; if you 
ever sit at Jesus' feet and learn of Him ; if you 
ever know Him whom to know aright is life eternal, 
you will say as Balkis did, but with deeper empha¬ 
sis, “ Surely the half was not told me —the match¬ 
less glories that in my Saviour dwell had never 
been revealed to me in all their fullness of life, light, 
and joy. 





ESTMER, 


Esther? : 3.—“ Then Esther the Queen answered and said^ If 1 
have found favor in thy sight, O King, and if it please the King, let 
my life be given me at my petition, and my people at my request^ 


The significancy of Jewish names is deeply in¬ 
teresting. Think of the names of those who have been 
the subjects of our preceding lectures : Eve signifies 
‘‘ life, the mother of all living Sarah, lady, 
princess of a multitudeKebekah, ^^portly and fair j' 
Jochehed, glorious, honorable Miriam, judg¬ 
ment Euth, satisfied Abigail, the joy of a 
father.” Thus is it with their names of men : Adam 
means red, earthy man Abraham, the father 
of a multitude Isaac, laughter Jacob, ‘Hhe 
supplanter Joseph, enlargement Moses, 
drawn out of the water Aaron, teacher 
Joshua, savior Saul, the demanded one 

David, the well-heloved Solomon, peaceful.” 

And you recollect that it was said of our Lord, that 
IP 







250 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


His name should be called Jesus, because he should 
save his people from their sins.'^ Think of the sin¬ 
gular significance of the name Esther : it means 
a star.’^ Understanding its appropriateness, her 
name is beautiful, indeed ; for what in all nature is 
so full of lustrous, permanent, steady beauty as a 
star, beaming forth out of its home of everlasting 
blue—sometimes upon unbroken masses of storm- 
clouds—oftener through their wild rifts, and oftener 
still silvering the black masses of night, guiding the 
traveler on his solitary way, or directing the billow- 
tossed mariner toward his desired haven ? We 
speak of the star of hope, the star of joy, the star 
of superiority. All this, Esther was to her people. 
In the splendid galaxy of Hebrew women of the 
olden time, no name stands more prominent, or 
shines with a richer lustre ; no character combines 
more of the physical and moral elements of woman¬ 
ly dignity and glory than hers. To her an honor 
is given, which is shared by only one other female 
of the race. In the Bible—this embodiment of 
God's revealed will to man —one book bears her 
name. There it stands, with that of Samuel the 
judge, David the psalmist, and the grand old proph¬ 
ets, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah. 

The scenes recorded in this book occurred in Per¬ 
sia. How came Hsther there ? A review of the 
Bible history will answer that question. The his¬ 
torical period intervening between the point at which 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


25 > 


we left it in our last lecture, and where we now 
commence it, stretches over more than five hundred 
and ninety-three years. We left it during the time 
of Solomon's fearful wickedness. Men have con¬ 
demned Solomon's debauchery ; hut their condem¬ 
nation, compared with that of God, has been only 
as a whisper to a thunder crash. God said to him, 
‘‘ Forasmuch as thou hast not kept my covenant, 
and my statutes which I have commanded thee, I 
will surely rend the kingdom from thee." And He 
did do so : although, on account of his father David, 
Solomon's son, Kehohoam, was permitted to ascend 
the throne—still, during his reign, the once united 
kingdom was divided, never more to he reunited.— 
The ten tribes made Jeroboam their king, and were 
called the kingdom of Israel while only two 
tribes, those of Judah and Benjamin, remained un¬ 
der Eehohoam, and constituted ‘‘ the kingdom of 
Judah." During the period of four hundred and 
sixteen years, between Solomon's reign and the Bab¬ 
ylonish captivity, nineteen kings reigned over Israel, 
and twenty over Judah. The most of both these 
lines were wicked men, and devastating wars were 
carried on between them. During this period, also, 
Isaiah, Ezekiel, Jeremiah, Daniel, and all the lesser 
prophets lived, and wept, and wrote. On account 
of their wickedness, twice the nation was suffered 
to be made captives by their proud foes ; and still 
they persisted in their rebellion against God : on 



252 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


account of which, He permitted Shalmanezer to 
carry Israel captive to his Assyrian capifcol. Sub¬ 
sequently, Nebuchadnezzar despoiled Jerusalem, and 
led Judah captive to Babylon. This captivity con¬ 
tinued seventy years. During it they were humbled, 
became penitent, and their feelings are described 
with mournful tenderness in the one hundred and 
thirty-seventh psalm : By the rivers of Babylon 
there we sat down—yea, we wept when we remem¬ 
bered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows, 
in the midst thereof; for there they that carried us 
away captive required of us mirth, saying, sing us 
one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the 
Lord^s song in a strange land ? If I forget thee, 0 
Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. 
If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to 
the roof of my mouth ; if I prefer not Jerusalem 
above my chief joy.’^ 

Finally, God raised them up a deliverer in the 
person of Cyrus, the king of Persia, who, having taken 
Babylon, gave the Jews permission to return to their 
own land. Many availed themselves of the oppor¬ 
tunity, but others, won by the noble conduct of their 
deliverer, accompanied him to Persia, and took up 
their permanent residence there. This accounts for 
the residence of Mordecai and Esther in Persia. 
Such is the briefest possible outline of the sacred 
history, during the five hundred and ninety years 
from Solomon to Esther. 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


253 


I propose now to present for your consideration, 
a series of panoramic views shetching the entire 
narrative. 

Yiew 1st. Ahasuerus, tlie royal son of Cyrus, is 
on the throne. His kingdom embraces one hundred 
and twenty-seven provinces. It is enriched by the 
accumulated treasures, not only of its own vast re¬ 
sources, but by trophies won by its victorious arms 
from an immense territory, stretching from Indus 
to Ethiopia. Shushan, its capitol, rises before us, 
with its gorgeous palaces and odoriferous gardens, 
which make the air redolent with perfume. Its 
architectural products are amazing. Moaern tra¬ 
velers pause in wonder over their ruins, strewn 
though they are by the ashes of wasting ages.'’ 
They pause in awe-struck admiration before the 
mutilated remains of vast columns and beauteous 
architraves, which constituted the buildings at the 
period when our view opens. The palace of Ahasue- 
rus, combining all the grandeur that highest art 
could conceive, or unbounded wealth purchase, oc¬ 
cupies the foreground. A festival, commemorative 
of his victories, has been ordered by the king, which, 
is to continue seven days. 

We are introduced to the court of the garden of 
the palace, whose canopy, couches and tesselated 
floor are thus described—The hangings are white, 
green and blue, fastened with cords of fine linen and 
purple, to silver rings and pillars of marble." The 



254 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


beds upon which the guests recline, are of gold 
and silver, upon a pavement of red and blue and 
black and white marble/' Allow me to divert your 
attention from this scene, for a moment, to give you 
an interesting fact. The Commission, appointed to 
trace out the line between Turkey and Persia, dis¬ 
covered the remains of Shushan, as mentioned in 
the books of Esther and Daniel. The pavement, as 
described in the former, still remains ; and not far 
from the palace is a tomb, on which is sculptured 
the figure of a lion springing on a man. Keturning 
to our view, you observe that distinguished guests 
crowd the hall. The revelry begins ; jeweled gob¬ 
lets circulate freely ; the tables are loaded with 
luxuries. Six days of wild hilarity are passed.— 
Ahasuerus has become wild with wine. On the sev¬ 
enth day, in a drunken freak, listening to the serpent 
words of an enemy of the Queen, he orders that 
Vashti, in jeweled robes and diadem, unveiled, shall 
grace the feast. It is contrary to custom for a lady 
to appear unveiled before others than her husband, 
and the royal woman, to whose beauty and purity 
history hath borne witness, shrinking from appear¬ 
ing thus before a crowd of intoxicated nobles, indig¬ 
nantly refuses to obey. The debauched king fan¬ 
cies himself insulted, in the presence of the repre¬ 
sentatives of his empire. Her enemies fan the 
flame of his indignation. How shall he vindicate 
his injured honor ? The suggestion is at hand.— 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


255 


He adopts it : he will divorce his wife. The deed 
is done. The noble Vashti is banished in disgrace, 
and information of the fact is communicated through 
the kingdom. 

View 2d. Months have elapsed. The wrath of 
the king is appeased ; hut he is troubled by mem*- 
ories of Yashti, his abused, disgraced wife. His 
servants see it, and make a proposition, which is 
devised, in order to secure him a wife in Yashti's 
jdace. The news that a queen is to be chosen by 
the king, flies with electric speed throughout the 
kingdom. Numerous aspirants to this dignity are 
to be chosen. 

Just outside Shushan, in an humble dwelling 
shaded by palm trees, and adorned by flowers, lives 
a Jewish family, who are not known as Jews to the 
Persians. It consists of an aged man named Mor- 
decai, and a fair young woman—an orphan maiden 
—his cousin, who bore the name of Hadassar, or 
Esther. Mordecai, who knows her surpassing 
beauty and admirable grace, proposes that she, for 
the good of her people, shall compete with dark¬ 
eyed maidens from India and Ethiopia, ruddy dam¬ 
sels from Babylon, beauties from Georgia, Circas¬ 
sia, and Persia, for the lofty dignity. Esther is no 
hold heroine in the ordinary acceptation of the 
term. She is mild as a summer breeze, gentle as a 
dove, beauteous as a star, modest as a lily, and 
pious as the holy ones of old ; but for her people 



256 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


she will pass the trying ordeal. Arrayed in rich 
apparel, attended by her uncle, we see her enter 
the palace, with her soft, dark eyes downcast ; her 
fair cheek pallid ; her pure heart beating with ex- 
citement, as if it would break through its living 
barriers. Like a dream of loveliness, she bends be¬ 
fore the monarch. He does not know that she is a 
Jewess, but her exquisite beauty, her unparalleled 
modesty, her symmetrical form, her glorious face— 
where high intellectuality and still higher moral 
purity blend—win his heart ; and while he hears 
the soft tones of her voice, and feels the power of 
her dewy eyes, rejecting all others, with his own 
hands he places the gorgeous coronet upon her 
splendid brow, and makes her Queen instead of 
Vashti. 

View 3d. Five years hav ; passed away. Another 
court scene opens before us. The King, for reasons 
unknown, has elevated Haman—a descendant of 
Agag, the Amalekite, whom Saul spared, but Sam¬ 
uel destroyed, at the command of God—to be his 
special favorite, and placed him above all the Per¬ 
sian princes. Obsequiously, all the subordinate of¬ 
ficers and servants bow in reverence to this haughty, 
proud Amalekite, the hereditary foe of Israel. But 
his attention being called to it by those who seek 
his favor, his keen eye detects one venerable form 
that never bows when he approaches. Whether he 
wrlxs, arrayed in the gorgeous apparel of a royal 



THE KESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


257 


favorite, or rides upon a richly decked Arabian char¬ 
ger, surrounded by reverent throngs, again and again 
his eagle eye sees that ever-erect head and form, with 
arms calmly folded on its breast, standing like a 
marble statue, while all others kneel. The sight 
irritates and maddens him. And it is to his mind 
the more aggravating, because Tie knows that Mor- 
decai is one of the hated Jews. In his soul he vows 
revenge ; but he proudly scorns to lay hands upon 
Mordecai alone : that would be poor satisfaction to 
his wounded pride. He hates all the Jews ; he re¬ 
members that their forefathers slew his progenitor, 
Agag ; and now he will slay all the thousands of 
Jews in the wide Persian empire. His plan is 
formed. He goes to the King, and whispers in his 
private ear : There be certain people dis 2 )ersed 
among thy people who keep not the king^s laws, 
but have laws diverse of their own : therefore it is 
not for the king's profit to sulfer them. Let them 
be destroyed. I will pay ten thousand talents to 
those who have charge of the business." The king 
falls into the snare. Eemember, he does not know 
that Esther is a Jew. He gives Haman full power 
to frame and execute the law he wants, and gives 
him his signet ring, that the law may bear the seal 
of the monarch. You can see the eyes of Haman 
flash, and his cheeks glow with exultation, as, leav¬ 
ing the king with step more haughty than ever, he 
executes the decree, aflaxes the royal seal, and by 



258 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


swift messengers sends it to every part of the 
realm. 

Ah ! he can more easily now endure the majestic 
contempt of Mordecai as he passes his unbending 
form, for he feels assured that, ere long, that hated 
figure, which has seared the eyeballs of his pride, 
shall writhe in the agonies of an ignominious death, 
and that voice, which has never mingled with the 
praises of admiring crowds, shall mingle with the 
death-groans of his slaughtered people. 

Yiew 4th. This is a sad and gloomy scene. The 
bloody decree has gone forth. Do you remember 
it ? Thus had Haman written it : ‘‘ The king 
commands to destroy, to kill, to cause to perish all 
Jews—both young and old, little children and wo¬ 
men—in one day, even the thirteenth day of the 
twelfth month, and to take the spoil of them for a 
prey.'' Observe, Persia then included Palestine. 
It is, therefore, a decree, whose execution will ex¬ 
terminate the race—blot out the very name of Is¬ 
rael from the earth. Is it not indeed a bloody 
one ? It falls like a thunderbolt upon the doomed 
people. Full well they know the irrevocableness 
of the laws of the Medes and Persians. 0, it seems 
to them, in their agony, that the covenant promises 
to their forefathers are all to be defeated. Every 
where among them is great mourning, fasting, weep¬ 
ing and wailing. Husbands and wives, parents and 
children, gaze at each other tearfully, as victims 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


259 


doomed to a common massacre. Family altars aie 
bathed in tears. The fearful decree, like a black 
demon, flings its dark shadow o'er every Israelite. 
One man seems to feel most deeply : it is Morde- 
cai, the porter of the king's gate. He rends his 
clothes—and putting on sackcloth and ashes, goes 
out into the midst of the city, and utters “ a loud 
and bitter cry." All this hath been kept from Es¬ 
ther. She wonders, and is troubled at the agony 
of Mordecai, and sends a messenger to know tho 
cause. Her messenger returns with a copy of the 
edict, and a charge from Mordecai that she should 
plead with the king for her people. 

Now see her native timidity. She sends this 
message to Mordecai, as a reason for not obeying 
his charge : The law is, that if any man or woman 
come into the inner court of the king uncalled by 
him, certain death is the penalty ; and I have not 
been called to come in these thirty days." Mark 
Mordecai’s indignant response : Think not that 
thou shalt escape ; for if thou boldest thy peace, 
then shall deliverance come from another quarter 
and closing with this thrilling suggestion, ^^who 
knoweth whether thou hast not come to the king¬ 
dom for such a time as this ?" 

“ Mourning within the palace, in her room, 

The young Queen sits alone. A soft perfume 
Mingles its odors with the evening breeze, 

As steals it through the garden’s fragrant trees. 



260 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Ere fanning her white brow. Soft music is 
Upon the air—the wild bird’s joyous notes 
Are gushing forth. A jeweled coronet 
Is gleaming close beside her. Not as yet 
Have tears bedimmed its lustre, nor has care 
Made that light crown too wearisome to bear. 

And yet her brow 

Is sad; and in calm, motionless despair. 

Her small white hands are clasped. Why mourns she now 1 
’ T^s for her nation, heaven’s peculiar trust 
In years long past, now bowing to the dust— 

Condemned to die to gratify the pride 

Of one weak man; and she, the monarch’s bride, 

Is of the number, though he knows it notr 

Esther, now conscious of her danger, quickly sends 
this answer : Go gather all the Jews in Shushan, 
and fast ye for me three days and nights. I also 
and my maidens will fast : so will I go in unto the 
king, which is not according to law, and if I perish, 
I perish.'' Those words sound like the low, sad 
wail of expiring hope. 

View 5th. Behold Esther in the foreground of 
this scene, with royal apparel thrown aside, kneel¬ 
ing in agony before Him whom she has always wor¬ 
shiped in secret. She has fasted two days and 
weary nights. Grief has made inroads upon her 
beauty. Her lustrous eyes are dimmed with weep¬ 
ing. Her lips are parched and dry. But her plan 
is formed, and she has staked her life upon the is¬ 
sue. She hath not seen the king in thirty days, 
and does not know but that he is alienated from 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


261 


her, and desires her death. Life is the penalty to 
he paid by all who approach the king uncalled,— 
But she will, she must go in unto him. Her poor, 
crushed, agonized people have no other hope. She 
will go in, although “ it is not according to law 
and her martyr determination is, if L perish, I 
perish Arising, she washes away, so far as she 
can, all traces of her suffering—braids more care¬ 
fully than ever before her long black tresses, and 
arrays herself in apparel that best adorns her radi¬ 
ant beauty ; for if ever she appeared lovely in her 
husband's eyes, she must appear transcendantly so 
now. At last, she is ready. The moment of des¬ 
tiny hath come. Visions of murdered innocency 
fortify her courage. Tremblingly and softly she 
treads the gallery leading to the inner court. She 
hath reached the door. The intensity of her emo¬ 
tions almost suffocate her. Faintness begins to steal 
over her frame. Kallying her energies, she parts 
the curtain doorway, and enters, where to come un¬ 
bidden is to forfeit life. But there she stands. The 
monarch, hearing the rustling, turns around to see 
who hath dared to break in upon his solitude. His 
gaze falls upon his own wife. As he looks upon her 
glorious beauty, he sees shrinking fear bowing her 
form, big tears dropping from her dark eyelashes, 
unwonted paleness on her polished brow. She is 
silent, but her unspoken appeal thrills his heart.— 
She has broken the law, but, shall she die in all 



262 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


that wondrous loveliness, unspotted innocence, and 
unselfish affection ? His humanity within him, 
strongeT than the law without him, answers no ! no ! 
no ! He will violate his own law. He extends his 
golden sceptre in token of welcome—overwhelmed 
with joy she touches it, and then sinks like a snow 
wreath at his feet."' Kindly he says to her—What 
wilt thou, Queen Esther ? What is thy request ? 
It shall he granted thee, even to the half of my 
kingdom.^' Esther has triumphed. And oh ! bless¬ 
ed triumph, she knows that there is hope for her 
people. Shrewdly postponing her main request, 
she merely invites the king and Haman, to dine 
with her that day. The invitation is accepted. At 
the banquet, again the king urges her to name her 
request. Declining, she begs that they will dine 
with her on the morrow."' Although Esther is no 
heroine, she hath what all women have— shrewd¬ 
ness ; and influenced by this, she will not venture 
her main request, which will involve the death of 
his favorite courtier, until her infiuence over her 
husband has reached highest pitch. Haman is 

in ecstacy. Proudly he tells his friends, The 
Queen did let no man come in with the king unto the 
banquet that she prepared but myself; and to-mor¬ 
row am I invited unto her also with the king."— 
Ah ! Haman, Haman, Haman ! To-morrow, to¬ 
morrow, to-morrow ! If thou couldst foresee its 
events, thou wouldst fly on the wings of the wind 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


263 


to tliy distant native wilds ! But so sure is he now 
of wreaking his vengeance upon Mordecai, who 
stood unbending as the proud old oak of the for¬ 
est,” while others were kissing the very dust of his 
feet as he passed, that he erected a gallows fifty 
cubits high, upon which he resolved to hang him 
like a dog unfit to live. 

View 6th.—It is night in Persia. The king has 
retired to his royal bedchamber. Silence pervades 
the palace, hut the monarch cannot sleep ; although 
his couch is made of down, and rich fragrance from 
golden censers fills the air. His heart is troubled. 
He cannot divine his wife's conduct. He cannot 
think what terrible emergency induced her, timid 
woman as he knows her to be, to jeopardize her own 
life. Arising, he commands his servants to read to 
him, to while away the tedious night, his govern- 
.mental records ; and he is astonished to find that 
Mordecai, who revealed the conspiracy of the cham¬ 
berlains against his life, has never been rewarded. 
He is surprised at his own forgetfulness, which has 
assumed the form of ingratitude. Perchance, he 
thinks, that as Mordecai had revealed that black 
conspiracy through Esther, this is her secret. She 
wants justice done to her husband's deliverer who 
saved him from assassination. Early the next day, 
Haman appears ; and he too has a request to make. 
He has come to ask the life of Mordecai. But the 
king anticipates him with a question : What shall 



264 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


be done to the roan whom the king delighteth to 
honor Exultingly, believing himself to be the 
man, he replies, Let him wear the crown royal, 
the regal robes, and ride the king’s horse through 
the city, led by the highest noble in the land.” But 
he petrifies with horror, his blood curdles, while the 
king commands him to do thus to Mordecai ! How¬ 
ever, he must obey ; and oh ! how his black heart 
writhed, as he led the horse on which Mordecai 
rode ; and as the triumphal procession passed the 
gallows he had erected, dark forebodings shivered 
through his frame. At noon, but three persons 
were in the banqueting hall—the king, Esther, and 
Haman. One hope yet remains to the Amalekite. 
Although he may not hang him, yet the hated old 
Jew must die, by the execution of the decree which 
exterminates his nation. 

The banquet ends, and the king again urges her 
to make known her request, with the assurance that 
it shall be granted. With queenly dignity and 
firmness Esther rei)lies—If I have found favor in 
thy sight, 0 king, and if it please the king, let my 
life be given me at my petition, and my people’s at 
my request. For we are sold, I, and my people, to 
be destroyed, to be slain, to perish : but if we had 
been sold for bondmen and bondwomen, I had held 
my tongue, although the enemy cannot countervail 
the king’s damage.” The enraged monarch de¬ 
mands —“ Who is he, and where is he that presumes 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


265 


thus in his heart Esther, pallid as a marble 
statue, slowly lifts her jeweled finger, and, pointing 
at the trembling wretch by his side, replies—“That 
wicked Haman.'' 

View 7th, and last. On the one side stands a 
dismal gallows, on which dangles the dead body of 
the wretched Amalekite. On the other we see Esther 
making her final plea ; for, though her life and that 
of Mordecaiis saved, the bloody edict is yet uncoun¬ 
termanded. For this she now pleads. Her plea pre¬ 
vails, her nation is saved ; Mordecai is elevated to 
the highest dignities, and the entire family of Haman 
destroyed. 

Now, while these views are fresh in our memories, 
I beseech you to 'pause^ and contemplate some medita¬ 
tions they suggest. 

1. Have you observed that through all these views, 
nothing has been said about God ? Did you notice 
that He is not represented as speaking, or acting at 
all ? Did you know that the name of God is not 
once mentioned in all the book of Esther ? Such is 
the fact. This may startle those of you who did not 
know it before ; but it need not disturb you ; for, if 
you understand the variety of God's methods in na¬ 
ture, and in grace, you shall understand this. Some¬ 
times we see Him putting in motion, and guiding 
long trains of events. At other times we see the 
trains moving so as to accomplish His purposes ; but 

His arm is concealed. Sometimes he allows himself 
12 



266 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


to be seen, as the cause of effects, and at other times 
we are left to trace those effects up to their cause. 
President Woolsey says : that God is sometimes, 
even to a philosopher, like a staple at the end of a 
long chain.'' You go into a sculpture gallery, and 
see that matchless work of art—the Greek Slave, by 
Powers. No where do you see the name of the ar¬ 
tist engraved on it. Is it on that account any the 
less the outwrought ideal of the American sculptor's 
mind and heart ? Look over the earth. You do 
not find the name of God impressed on the forest 
leaves, or engraved ujjon the everlasting rocks, or 
blazoned on the arching sky ; is it any the less, how¬ 
ever, the product of His creative energy ? You do 
not hear His name carolled forth in the warbling of 
birds. You do not hear His name in the eversound- 
ing anthem of old ocean. But, do not these as well 
as all other voices of nature, hymn the glory and 
praise of their Creator ? 

Had the stars been so arranged, that by their very 
positions all nations could have spelled out the word 
^^God," would they have been anymore the creations 
of His power than they now are, in their constellated 
magnificence, moving in majestic silence, and grand 
harmony, around His central throne ? Thus is it in 
His gracious operations. His pathway is often on 
the deep waters, where we cannot even trace His 
footsteps. But we always feel His power. Often¬ 
times clouds and darkness so obscure His throne, 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


267 


that we cannot see it ; but we feel evermore the 
sway of His government. On this account one of 
old exclaimed, Verily, thou art a God that hideth 
thyself.” His operations are compared to the view¬ 
less wind—Thou canst not tell whence it cometh, 
or whither it goeth but you hear it sighing in 
zephyrs, roaring in gales ; you see it bowing great 
forests, and lashing vast oceans into fury. Now God 
is in the book of Esther just as He is in nature—un¬ 
seen, but ever acting. The great unseen, but ever 
felt God is in the book of Esther as your heart dwells 
in your body, not visibly, hardly heard ; yet thrill¬ 
ing in every nerve, coursing in every vein, giving life 
and beauty to every part. Look at a picture in which 
all my seven views are condensed, and see how the 
thread of God's design to save his people, gradu¬ 
ally formed the web of events.” Behold the self- 
respect and decision of Yashti ; the wrath of the 
king ; the birth, and beauty of Esther ; the treason 
of the king's chamberlains ; its exposure by Morde- 
cai, who thus saves the king's life ; his failure to re¬ 
ward his deliverer ; Mordecai's independence ; Ha- 
man's wrath; the bloody edict; the queen's petition; 
the strange wakefulness of the king on the night 
preceding the petition ; his unusual request to have 
the chronicles read for his amustment; his discovery 
of the debt he owes Mordecai ; the opportune arri¬ 
val of Haman in the morning, and the succeeding 
events : I say, behold this crowded picture, and see 



268 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


how the purpose of God, developed nearly two thous¬ 
and years before, to protect the Jews, from whom 
the Messiah should descend, is accomplished under 
His superintending providence, through the volitions 
of both wicked and good men. 

Let the history of Esther, then, hereafter, be to 
us one of the clearest illustrations of the providence 
of our God, who gave us this record, wherein is no 
mention of His name : but wherein we see the ope¬ 
rations of His hand. The book of Esther is like 
that clock. I see its face, those figures tell me the 
time. I do not see the power that moves those 
hands, but I know that it is there, just as well as if 
the face were removed and all laid bare. 

II. These views suggest a meditation the 

poiver, criminality and results to its possessor, of 
wicked pride. In some of these scenes, you recol¬ 
lect, Haman has figured largely. He was not a 
Persian, but an Amalekite. He must have been a 
man of high order of intellect, of polished manners, 
deeply versed in all the arts of a courtier : for, 
foreigner though he was, he arose above all the Per¬ 
sian princes to the high position of the king's favor¬ 
ite. He stood at the head of the native Persian 
nobility. But he must have been an exceedingly 
proud man : and his political success unparalleled, 
he allowed to foster his pride, until it became his 
ruling passion, and exhibited itself in insatiable am¬ 
bition, which, when wounded, begat a maddening 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


269 


thirst for revenge. It would seem that his pride 
might have been satisfied with the highest favor of 
the king, the obsequiousness of proud nobles, the 
obeisance of revering multitudes, even though one 
single man, and he a Jew, did not offer incense at 
his shrine. 

But ’^ngodly pride, like every other unholy pas¬ 
sion, has a twofold effect : an inward and an out¬ 
ward one. It makes a man ungenerous, meanly 
selfish, and desolates his higher nature. Thus it 
ravages his own being: then it works outwardly, 
through the forms of ambition, envy and revenge, 
leading its possessor to a series of small, contempti¬ 
bly unworthy abuses, slanders of its object, and 
afterwards to overt acts of downright persecution, 
and often to actual murder. See it operate in its 
three forms of ambition, envy and revenge, in the 
character before us. 

An hereditary foe as an Amalekite, of the Jew 
Mordecai, he felt that it would be peculiarly grati¬ 
fying to his pride to have had him bow to him. But 
Mordecai bowed not. Wounded pride strikes its 
envenomed fangs into his own heart, and leaves its 
poison there. Now, all his greatness and power is 
nothing. Sullen frowns wreath his brow. His wife 
and friends become alarmed at his miseryand try 
to remove it by speaking of the extent of his riches 
and honors. Mark his' reply—Yet all this avail- 
eth me nothing so long as I see Mordecai, the Jew, 



270 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


sitting at the king's gate." 0 the mystery of the 
human heart ! To this proud, ambitious, envious 
soul, one little cloud obscures the whole heaven. 
Maddened, he resolves on the death of a man who 
never did him an injury. He cannot wait for the 
general execution of the Jews, hut resolves upon his 
immediate death. Do you know how high that 
scaffold was ? It was seventy-five feet. Do you 
know where he erected it ? It was immediately in 
front of his own house, so that from his own gor¬ 
geous banquet-room he might see the last struggle 
and hear the helpless death-cry of the man who had 
wounded his pride. But ah, the retributive provi¬ 
dence of God ! On that very day, and on that very 
gallows, his own proud form swayed in the breeze, 
covered with ignominy. Thus it often occurs— 
That he who digs a pit for his neighbor, falls into 
it himself." He, who, influenced by pride in the 
form of envy, jealousy or revenge, seeks to injure 
another, succeeds only in injuring himself. His 
efforts to tear down the reputation of another, break 
down his own. He who builds a gallows, on which 
to execute his neighbor, shall hang upon it himself. 
He who thus “ soweth to the wind, shall reap the 
whirlwind." Headlong passion shall hurl him down 
the very precipice, over which he would unjustly 
push another. Wicked efforts to obtain satisfaction 
for a fancied wrong—this thirst for revenge, re¬ 
venges itself upon his own soul. God give us pure 



THE RESISTLESS PETITIONER. 


2V1 


hearts ; then we shall have clean hands. God give 
us just views of ourselves and others, and then we 
shall do justice, and love mercy, and walk humbly 
before Him. 

“ When haughty guilt exults with impious joy, 

Mistake shall blast, or accident destroy— 

Weak man with impious rage, may throw the dart 
But heaven shall guide it to the guilty heart,” 

It is an interesting fact that in commemoration of 
the day appointed by Haman for the destruction of 
the Hebrews, a feast was appointed, which is con¬ 
tinued to the present time—it is called Purim. At 
its celebration the book of Esther is read, and at 
the mention of the name of Haman the whole con¬ 
gregation stamp with their feet and cry —Let 
Ms name perish” 

III. These views also suggest a meditation upon 
the patriotic benevolence of Esther. What is it 
after all, in the character of Esther, which attracts 
our admiration ? It is not her wonderful beauty. 
It is not her strange good fortune, as the world 
would call it. It is not her queenly dignity, or her 
great influence over the greatest monarch of the age. 
Ho, no. It is her sympathy with her people, though 
poor captives, over whom the uplifted axe of po¬ 
tent despotism is upraised” to sweep them away for¬ 
ever. It is her tender womanly compassion, which 
bursts forth when she exclaimed in agony, How 
can I endure to see the evil which is to come upon 



272 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


iny people ? How can I endure to see the destruc¬ 
tion of my kindred Yea, it is her jeopardizing 
her own life to save the lives of others, which she 
did when she said, I will go in unto the king : 
which is not according to law, and if I perish, I per¬ 
ish.'' It is Esther, the petitioner for the safety of 
her people. It is Esther, the sweet pleader for 
others at the risk of her own life. It is Esther, the 
patriotic deliverer of thousands from death, which 
forms the scene around wdiich our hearts love to 
linger, which an admiring world has gazed on in all 
ages with praise, and which has enrolled her name 
high among the patriotic daughters of Zion. I have 
before said, that she was no heroine, in the ordinary 
acceptation of the word. In her nature the heroic 
elements did not predominate. You even see in 
her traits of womanly weakness—delicate female 
shrinking from peril. She was neither a Deborah 
nor even an Abigail. For them to have done what 
she did, would have been a far easier thing, and 
therefore less praiseworthy. And it is this very 
timidity which excites our sympathy and fires our 
enthusiasm. 0, even in this selfish world such un¬ 
selfish deeds move our hearts and call forth our praise. 
Patriotism in women has always been stronger 
than in men. It has not been theirs to exhibit 
it in the halls of state, or on the battle-field, as men 
have had the opportunity of doing, yet the records 
of history show that other females besides Esther 
have been the deliverers of nations. 



i‘ilE EKSISTLESS PETITIONER. 


273 


lY. But, to pious females in their spiritual re¬ 
lations to their kindred, the conduct of Esther pre¬ 
sents an example worthy of their imitation. You 
know, my friends, that your kindred, although not 
under the condemnation of any human monarch or 
human law, are, as sinners, condemned by their God, 
the king of the whole earth. You know that while 
Esther's kindred were under an unjust condemna¬ 
tion, your impenitent kindred, as violators of God's 
law, as lovers of sin, as rejectors of Christ, are un¬ 
der a just condemnation. You know, that while 
Esther's kindred after all, were only exposed to a 
temporal death, yours are exposed to the dismal ter¬ 
rors of an eternal one. And what is worst of all, 
you know, that while Esther's kindred were in trou¬ 
ble about their condition, were weeping and fasting, 
and making sad lamentations, your kindred, though 
exposed to a far greater danger, are careless and un¬ 
concerned, even gay and hilarious. Was Esther in 
trouble and anguish about her people, and will not 
you feel for yours I —husband, brother, sister, child, 
relative and friend ? Can you not say as she did, 
“ How can I endure to see the evil which shall come 
upon my people 0 go ye in unto the king on 
their behalf. Ye shall encounter no such danger as 
Esther did. The King is your Father. Approach 
his mercy seat with your petition ; ye shall find it 
sprinkled over with atoning blood, and ye shall find 
12 * 



274 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


an advocate there^ whose brow wears the scar of the 
crown of thorns, and whose body has the marks of 
Calvary's five bleeding wounds, each of which shall 
plead for the salvation of your loved ones. Did 
Esthei''s earnestness increase as the time of their 
execution drew near ? let yours. And 0, remem¬ 
ber, that to-day closes another year of their pro¬ 
bation. 

This year is dying. I have heard its death wail 
on the wintry blast. While I speak it is expiring. 
Hear ye not the low groans of the dying year ? 
The period for the execution of God's law against 
your kindred is drawing near. Perchance thy hus¬ 
band, thy children, and many of thy friends, are 
never to see the close of another year. The thread 
of their life, perchance, is soon to be broken. Per- 
adventure the blessed Spirit, whom they have so 
long resisted, may be about to take His everlasting 
flight. 0 my sisters, go ye speedily in unto the 
King on their behalf. Peradventure ye may yet 
prevail. Peradventure the condemnation may yet 
be removed—they may repent and sing with you in 
glory for ever. 

V. The example of Esther commends itself to yet 
another class of persons, of which I hope there are 
a few here to-day. Is there one person present, who, 
by the Spirit, has become conscious of his danger, 
conscious that he is under the condemnation of God's 
holy law, and who is in trouble as Esther's kindred 



THE RESISTLESS PETITICNER. 


275 


were ? Is there one here who hath said in his heart, 

I have lived too many years in disobedience against 
God ; I have lived for myself; I have sinned deep¬ 
ly, darkly sinned ; 0 that my sins were pardoned, 
my load of guilt removed ! 0 that I were a Chris¬ 

tian, that I could feel that God smiled on me, that 
I w^as prepared to die, that I was sure of heaven ?” 
Friend, I have a message from the King unto thee ; 
He hath heard thy groans ; He hath seen thy fall¬ 
ing tears ; His compassion is moved ; He waits to 
he gracious ; He bids me say to thee, poor, trem¬ 
bling penitent, come in unto Him and live ; for His 
Son's sake. He will receive thee. He will blot out 
thy transgressions, and remember them no more 
against thee. Do you hesitate ? Do you fear as 
Esther did ? 0, nerve up thy soul, and exclaim— 

“ I can but perish if I go— 

I am resolved to try; 

For if I stay away, I know 
I must forever die.” 

Bear your testimony, ye Christians who have thus 
been in unto the King : were ye not received as Es¬ 
ther was ? Speak, then, a word of encouragement 
to the weeper by thy side. Tell him there is hope, 
pardon, and salvation for him, even as there was for 
you. Tell him not to fear, not to delay, hut even now, 
in the Jast hours of a closing year, to approach and 
live ; and with the opening year, begin a new life 
—a life for God and heaven. 

VI. Another "'lass may receive a warmn(/from Es- 



276 


RErEESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ther’s example. Had she not petitioned the king, 
she had perished as well as her kindred. So ye, 
careless ones, unconcerned about the wrath of God 
which abides upon you, the fault is your own, that, 
to-day, ye are where Sinai thunders around you.— 
0, you have not cared enough about the removal of 
your condemnation, even to be troubled about it.— 
Unlike Esther's kindred, you are not even anxious 
for a pardon, much less have you ever prayed— 

God he merciful to me, a sinner." If you continue 
as you are, the blame is your own. If you die un¬ 
prepared ; if, when the cold dew gathers on your 
forehead, all the dismal terrors of a Christless death¬ 
bed are gathered around you ; if at the judgment 
day, standing at the left hand, you shall hear the 
<5udge say : Depart !"—and if you are banished 
to that lone land of deep despair, the blame will he 
your own. You will remember that you knew 
your duty, but you did it not : that God invited 
you ; Jesus besought you ; the Spirit urged you ; 
Christians begged you to approach and live ; but 
you would not. 

0 friends, hear me to-day. I shall have no other 
opportunity to speak to you in the year 1854. Hear 
me when I warn you of your danger, of the condem¬ 
nation of God's holy law; when I tell you that your fu¬ 
ture is dark and threatening. Hear me when I tell you 
that the King is ready to pardon you. 0 hear me, 
when, by all the mercies of a closing year, I beseech 
you in Christ's stead, Be ye reconciled to God." 



ELIZABETH, 


tilth in ^ 


Luke 1: 45, And Elizabeth said —“ Blessed is she that believeth,for 
there shall he a performance of those things, whir.h were told her from 
the Lord.” 

Perhaps you are surprised, that in this course of 
Lectures, I have omitted so many leading female 
characters of the Old Testament. You have won¬ 
dered why Eachel, the beloved wife of Jacob, the 
devoted daughter of Jeptha, the grand and heroic 
Deborah, the seductive Delilah, the pious Hannah, 
the beautiful Bathsheba, the wicked Jezebel, the 
hospitable Shunamite, the bloody Athaliah, and 
others, have been passed by with scarcely a notice. 

In thus doing, I have been influenced by three 
considerations. One has been, the fear of protract¬ 
ing the course beyond its interest. Another, that 
I have aimed at presenting only those types of wo¬ 
men from which might be gathered the most prac¬ 
tical instruction. Another, still, is found in the 


278 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


design to give an outline, continuous sketch of 
Bible history, which I could more satisfactorily 
group around one female of a given period, than 
many. We left that history in our last Lecture in 
the year of the world 3540, just 460 years before 
Christ. What a period ! Why, it is only three 
hundred and sixty-three years since Columbus, from 
his vessel’s deck, first saw this new world. Yet 
this period intervening between the Old and the 
New Testament, saw more than fifteen generations 
of human beings appear on the earth and pass away, 
like shadows over the plain. The next succeeding 
event in Jewish histoiy, was the rebuilding of the 
temple under Ezra and Nehemiah. During that 
time Malachi, the last of the long line of prophets, 
liv^ed and wrote. 

His prophecy completed the canon of the Old 
Testament. He uttered the cry to Israel—Pre¬ 
pare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,” 
which four hundred years afterward was echoed in 
the wilderness of Judea, by the honored son of 
Elizabeth. Socrates was his cotemporary. Kome 
was then advancing toward her republican greatness, 
by the elevation of her common people. During a 
century after the last prophet, the Jews, protected 
by Persia, on whose throne Esther, one of their own 
daughters, had sat, and of whose government Mor- 
decai had been a prime minister, lived peacefully in 
their own land. Subsequently, Alexander the 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


279 


Great, conquered Persia, and added Judea to his 
dominions. This is one of the most important eras 
in the history of the world. ' 

You understand that the original of the Old Tes¬ 
tament is Hebrew, and that of the New Testament 
Greek. You understand, that, in the times of our 
Saviour, the Greek was the common language of the 
Jews. Did you ever ask, why the Evangelists and 
Apostles wrote in a language different from the 
Prophets ? This historical fact is accounted for by 
the conquest of Alexander, whose policy it was to 
amalgamate into his own great nation all the peo¬ 
ple he conquered, by diffusing Grecian literature, 
and influencing them to adopt the^ Greek language, 
which became the fashionable language in high so¬ 
cial and literary circles. After his death, when his 
kingdom was divided among his generals, Judea be¬ 
came the arena of fierce strife, and was ruled over at 
one time by the Syrian, and at another time by the 
Egyptian kings. At last, the Syrian gained the 
mastery, and Antiochus Epiphanes ascended the 
throne. This man, combining the worst elements 
of the Greek and Asiatic, possessed one of the 
most abominable characters which any history has 
recorded. This, too, was the darkest period the 
Jews had yet known. He defiled their altars ; ded¬ 
icated their temples to Jupiter ; and oppressed 
them most bitterly. But the day of retribution 
came. In a town, on the borders of the Mediter- 



280 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


ranean, lived a man named Mattathias, who had 
five sons in the full vigor of early manhood. Through 
this family a powerful national party arose, led on 
by Judas Maccabees, the third son, who overthrew 
the power of Antiochus, and revived the national 
glory of Judah. It was a grand day when they en¬ 
tered in triumph the waste places of Jerusalem.— 
They found tall shrubs, like the undergrowth of a 
forest, in the very courts of the temple ; but they 
soon purified it, and celebrated the feast of dedi¬ 
cation’^ with great joy, which was ever afterward 
kept sacred by the nation. The Maccabees ruled 
one hundred years, and were called the Asmonean 
princes. They were succeeded by the Herods of 
Idumea, who were appointed by Julius Caesar, af¬ 
ter having defeated Pompey at the battle of Phar- 
salia, and possessed himself of Judea, which Pom¬ 
pey had captured. 

This brings down the history until forty years be¬ 
fore Christ. There are two females who lived in 
this period between Esther and Elizabeth, whom I 
may not pass by, without, at least, a brief notice : one 
was Anna the prophetess, a widow, who was born 
eighty years before Christ, and who departed not 
from the temple” during a long series of years, but 
served God with fastings and prayers night and 
day,” awaiting the coming of the Messiah ; and of 
whom such honorable mention is made in the sec¬ 
ond chapter of Luke. The other is Mariamne—the 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


281 


last of the line of Maccabees, the beautiful wife 
of Herod. He loved her deeply, but in a fit of un¬ 
grounded jealousy murdered her, and ever afterward 
endured the most agonizing remorse. He also slew 
Hyrcannus, her grandfather, and three of his own 
children : and when writhing in agony, caused by the 
loathsome disease of which he died, he ordered the 
chief men of Judea to be gathered together and 
confined in a circus, and then summoning his family, 
said, ‘^1 know that the Jews will rejoice at my 
death, but you have their leading men in custody, 
and as soon as I am dead, before it is publicly 
known, let the soldiers kill them.'' Josephus says 
that, with tears in his eyes he besought them, by 
their love to him, not to fail to obey his command." 
The next prominent woman in this historic line, is the 
one who stood on the threshold of the Gospel dispen¬ 
sation—Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist. 

I.—The fact, that she lived at the period to which 
I have just alluded, invests her biography with in¬ 
terest. Persons who have lived in great historic 
periods, become associated in our minds with the 
events that then transpired. Especially is this true, 
'svhen they were practically connected with them.— 
There had been important epochs in the world's his¬ 
tory antecedently. There have been subsequently. 
But never since the world began has there been a 
period around which gathered such momentous in¬ 
terest, and from which has flowed such wide-spread 



282 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


and far-reaching results, temporal and eternal, as 
from that epoch at the opening of which Elizabeth 
lived. Moral darkness covered the earth. The once 
exalted Jewish nation was crushed by its proud foes, 
and apparently abandoned by Jehovah. An un¬ 
broken night of centuries had brooded over them. 
The mass of the people were ignorant and corrupt ; 
and the most of the cultivated among them, divided 
into sects, were either infidel or hypocritical. Only 
a few remained true to their God, like the venerable 
Simeon and Anna, who had long prayed and watched 
for the coming of the promised Messiah, the dawn¬ 
ing of that illustrious day which prophets and 
kings desired to see, but died without the sight.’"— 
A dreary waste of ages had passed away since the 
death of the last prophet. The seventy prophetic 
weeks of Daniel were about expiring. God’s ap¬ 
pointed time approached. The pious few, amid 
surrounding gloom, called out to spiritual watchers 
on the heights of Zion—Watchmen, what of the 
night ?” And the joyous response came—The 
morning dawneth !” For from their spiritual ele¬ 
vation of faith and scriptural knowledge, they knew 
that their redemption was drawing nigh. Now it 
was in the early twilight, the dim dawn of this glo¬ 
rious day, amid whose meridian splendors we live, 
that Elizabeth lived—and was associated most in¬ 
timately with those events, which ushered in the 
Gospel dispensation. Does not this fact excite in¬ 
terest in your mind in regard to her ? 



THE BEL [EYING WIFE. 


283 


II.—The scripture record introduces us to her, 
sustaining the character of a wife. We are informed 
that she was a descendant of Aaron, the first High 
Priest of the Jews, the son of Jochehed and brother 
of Miriam. Of her history as a maiden, or her court¬ 
ship and marriage, we have no account. Both she 
and her husband were old and well stricken in 
years” at the time we first read of them. They 
were living at Hebron, a Levitical city twenty miles 
from Jerusalem, in the hill country. How long 
they had been married we do not know ; hut that 
their wedded life had been a happy one, that their 
home was a scene of domestic peace, there is no 
doubt. Of her personal appearance, no hint is given 
us. Of her intellectual character, we have enough 
in the record to show us that she must have been a 
cultivated, intelligent, thoughtful woman. Of her 
religious character, we have still more abundant evi¬ 
dence. She appears before us not only as a noble 
Jewish wife ; not only as a high-minded, cultured 
woman, but as possessing that crowning glory of hu¬ 
man character, fervent, devoted piety. 

And she was blest with what every religious woman 
is not —a pious husband. Zachariah was not only 
the chosen husband of her maiden heart; he was not 
only her companion in the journey of life ; he was 
not only the sharer of her social joys, her loving, de¬ 
voted, truest friend ; but he was more than all this. 
He not only loved her, but he loved her God. He 



284 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


not only administered to her necessities, fulfilled his 
duties to her, but he was a servant of the God she 
adored. She knew him to be not only a kind hus¬ 
band, an amiable man, but a truly religious one.— 
She felt, therefore, that their hearts were united 
not only in love for each other, but in love for the 
same supreme object. She had the blissful assurance 
that they not only lived together on earth, but would 
-dwell together eternally in heaven. She had, there¬ 
fore, not only a helper in her domestic labors, but 
in her religious duties. She bowed not alone in 
prayer. She did not worship God alone ; her dear¬ 
est earthly friend worshipped with her. 

Ah, how many pious women are differently situ¬ 
ated ! Their husbands are kind, amiable men, of 
unspotted business integrity, of high morals. They 
are all -they could wish them to be in their social 
relations ; but they are unreconciled to God ; ne¬ 
glectful of their obligations to Him ; living without 
regard to His commands : and momently exposed to 
the execution of the penalty of His law, which hangs 
over them like a dense cloud, at home and abroad, 
by night and by day, evermore. 

Many a pious wife's heart is distressed on account 
of what gave no concern to Elizabeth— the spiritual 
condition of her husband^ whom she loves with an 
affection strong as the combined energies of her 
nature. He may not know it. He may not see her 
falling tears, or hear her anguished groans, uttered. 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


285 


l)ercliancej in the still hour of night, or while he is 
about his daily business ; but there is an eye that 
sees those tears, an ear that hears those groans, 
while the heart, most devoted of all on earth to him, 
prays—0 Grod, let my husband live before thee ; 
make my best earthly friend a friend of my Ke- 
deemer ; let us who are united in all other things, 
not be divided in thy service ; let not us who live 
together now, be forever separated at the coming 
judgment.'^ 

To thy prayer, pious, faithful wife, I respond, 
‘^Amen and amen.” To thy prayer heaven listens. 
With thee the church of God unites. Kemember 
the apostolic question, ‘‘ How knowest thou, 0 wife, 
but that thou mayest save thy husband ?” Then pray 
on, weep on, struggle on. Jesus sprinkles the mercy 
seat with his atoning blood. He advocates thy cause. 
He intercedes for thee. And 0 may the hour not 
be distant, when thou shalt hear thy husband cry, 

God be merciful to me a sinner—what shall I do 
to be saved when he shall give his heart to the 
Lord, erect a family altar, and bow with thee there, 
sit at thy side around the communion table, and 
journey with thee toward the land which is very 
far off.” 

Observe the eulogistic record concerning this 
pious husband and wife. “ They were both right¬ 
eous before God, walking in all the commandments 
of the Lord, blameless.” Analyse for a moment 



286 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


this sei^entipus verse, developing their individual 
and united character. Perhaps no analysis could 
be more thorough and beautiful than the one made 
by the venerable and excellent Dr. Jay, of England. 
In commenting upon this passage in his Morning 
Exercises,he observes, of the piety of this noble 
pair : 

1. It was sincere. They were righteous before 
God. 

2. It was practical. They walked in the ordi¬ 
nances and commandments of the Lord. 

3. It was impartial. They walked in all the or¬ 
dinances, &c. 

4. It was irreproachable. They thus walked 

blameless.’’ 

5. It was mutual. They both,” &c. 

What a beautiful domestic scene is here pre¬ 
sented ! How peaceful the glory that bathes this 
pious household ! What place on earth so nearly 
resembles heaven as a family like this, where, super- 
added to the love of its members for each other is 
mutual love to the blessed God; where attention 
is paid not only to physical and mental duties, but 
also to the higher duties of religion ; where there 
is not only a family circle and table, but also a 
family altar ; where attention is paid not only to 
books in general, but where the family Bible is 
loved and honored as the word of the great Father; 
where not only earthly music is heard, but heavenly 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


287 


hymns are sung, whose sweet notes angels bend to 
hear, and which float up to heaven like incense from 
golden altars : where unions are formed not for this 
world only, but which shall be perpetuated in hea¬ 
ven forever—golden links, which even death's rude 
hand can sever but for a moment, to be reunited 
eternally in the home of the blest. 

There are many husbands and wives who profess 
to serve the same God that Zachariah and Elizabeth 
did. Allow me to ask, ca?^ that he said of you^ 
which is recorded of them ? Are you walking in 
all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, 
blameless ?” Have you religion in your families ? 
Bemember, that in your relations as husband and 
wife, you influence not only each others general but 
religious character. It is a difficult matter for a 
wife to serve God, if her husband, making the same 
profession with herself, does not join her in that 
service. It is equally difficult for a husband to 
grow in grace or maintain family religion, unless his 
wife cooperates with him. You know how impossi¬ 
ble it is for a man to accumulate property unless 
his wife, by habits of industry and economy, aids 
him. It is an old Irish adage, that a man must 
ask his wife's leave to be rich." You know how es¬ 
sential their mutual cooperation is in order to the 
promotion of every family good. And the same 
thing holds true in regard to religion. Christian 
woman, wouldst thou have thy husband walk in all 



288 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


tlie Ordinances of tlie Lord ? 0 walk in them thy¬ 

self. Christian man, wouldst thou have thy wife a 
devoted servant of thy God? 0 serve him thy¬ 
self. Christian woman, be thou an Elizabeth, and 
thy husband will be far more likely to be a Zacha- 
riah. Christian man, be thou a Zachariah, and thy 
wife will be far more likely to be an Elizabeth. 

III. The remaining record of her life presents 
her in other interesting domestic relations. 

With this portion of her biography several beau-- 
tiful historic scenes are connected. The first is— 

A Scene in the Temjple. 

In neither of the preceding lectures have we been 
introduced into the temple. We have beheld it 
from without. Now we pass its splendid threshold, 
its grand outer courts, and enter an inner one, 
called The holy place,'^ where stands the table of 
shew-bread and the altar of incense. It is the time 
of the evening sacrifice. The multitude are crowd¬ 
ing the outer court. Elizabeth's husband, arrayed 
in his sacerdotal robes, stands alone before the altar 
of incense in the holy place, near to the veil which 
separates from “ the most holy place." Keverently 
he attends to his official duties, while his pious soul 
goes out in prayer to the God of Israel. No noise 
breaks the solemn silence save the hum of the pray¬ 
ing multitude, which sounds like the murmur of a 
distant sea. Now, bear in mind, that when the 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


289 


prophetic ministry was withdrawn, that of angels 
ceased. We hear of no angelic appearance during 
four hundred years. Bear in mind, that only one 
thing has marred the joy of Zachariah and Eliza¬ 
beth. They have no child. But while performing 
his sacerdotal duty he beholds, through the wreath¬ 
ing incense, a brilliancy whereat the gleam of the 
altar-fire seems to pale. He looks steadily at it, 
and lo, it is an angel form, whose countenance beams 
with celestial beauty. His apparel is white as the 
driven snow. Zachariah, overwhelmed by this sud¬ 
den, mysterious, heavenly visitor, trembles with mo¬ 
mentary alarm. But the angel acts worthy of a 
messenger from the spirit world. He does not rap 
on the table of shew-bread, or move the altar of in¬ 
cense, or make unintelligible sounds, but distinctly 
addresses him, so as to leave no doubt as to what he 
desires to communicate. And these are the bliss¬ 
ful words, that, in tones of unearthly sweetness, 
' fell on his ear—Fear not, Zachariah : for thy 
prayer is heard : and thy wife Elizabeth shall bear 
thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John. And 
thou shalt have joy and gladness ; and many shall 
rejoice at his birth. For he shall be great in the 
sight of the Lord, and shall drink neither wine nor 
strong drink ; and he shall be filled with the Holy 
Ghost even from his mothers womb. And many of 
the children of Israel shall he turn to the Lord 

their God. And he shall go before him, in the 
13 



290 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN* 


spirit and power of Elias, to turn the hearts of the 
fathers to the children and the disobedient to the 
wisdom of the just, to make ready a people pre¬ 
pared for the Lord/'* 

At this wonderful announcement Zachariah is 
reassured, but doubtingly asks—Whereby shall I 
know this, for I am an old man and my wife well 
stricken in years In a tone of reproach the 
angel replies—I am Gabriel that stand in the 
presence of God, and am sent to show thee these 
glad tidings. And behold thou shalt be dumb, and 
not able to speak until these things are fulfilled, 
because thou helievest not my words—which shall be 
fulfilled in their season."' 

His mission accomplished, Gabriel disappears* 
The altar-flame dies out. The waiting multitude 
without have wondered at the Priest remaining so 
long in the temple, but now they see him coming 
forth out of the holy place. They wait to receive 
his benediction. As he approaches they perceive, 
from his appearance, that something wonderful has 
occurred, for, without uttering the customary bless¬ 
ing, he solemnly waves his hand, and then all re¬ 
tire inquiringly to their homes, and he returns into 
the temple to fulfill the days of his ministration. 
The second is— 

A Home Scene. 

Elizabeth has waited anxiously the expiration of 
her husband's ministry, during his allotted week at 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


291 


‘the temple. The hour has come for his return. 
Seating herself by a window, opening Jerusalem- 
ward, she watches and waits for his coming. At 
length her heart heats quickly with joy ; her eyes 
beam forth glad glances, for in the distance the loved 
form is seen approaching. Arising, she goes forth 
like a loving wife to meet and bid her husband wel¬ 
come home. But as she draws near him, she sees 
a new expression on his noble face. It is radiant 
with mingled wonder, hope and bliss ; he looks ten¬ 
derly upon her, and his lips move, but she hears no 
voice. Taking her outstretched hand, mutely they 
enter the dwelling, where, by means of writing, he 
communicates to his alarmed and wondering wife, 
the message of the angel. She has read it, and oh! 
1 see them throw their arms around each others 
necks, and silently weep tears of gladness, and oflfei 
up unspoken thanks to Him who hath heard their 
prayer, pitied their loneliness, and promised them 
so distinguished an honor. 

The third is a different scene in the same home. 
Half a year has passed away. A visitor hath come 
to the house of Elizabeth ; it is a female, a rela¬ 
tive, a cousin ; it is Mary, the future mother of the 
Messiah of God, the Saviour of men. Alone these 
two honored women sit and commune together. 
With rapture Mary tells of Gabriel's visit to her, 
and the announcement that she should have a son, 
who should be the long-promised and long-expected 



292 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


redeemer of Israel. At this glorious intelligence 
Elizabeth exclaims, as she folds her cousin in her 
arms—Blessed art thou among women, and blessed 
is the fruit of thy womb.'' Then with true hu¬ 
mility she adds—Whence is this to me, that the 
mother of my Lord should come to me. For lo ! 
as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in my 
ears, the babe lept in my womb for joy and in the 
exercise of unwavering faith she concludes by say¬ 
ing—Blessed is she that believeth, for there shall 
be a performance of those things which were told 
her from the Lord. 

The fourth is a still different scene in the same 
home. There is joy unknown before in the home 
of Zachariah and Elizabeth. There is a light in 
their dwelling which never shone there before. A 
sweet voice is heard that was never heard there be¬ 
fore. A bud of beauteous and rich promise has ap¬ 
peared in that garden home. Another is added to 
that small circle. Zachariah and Elizabeth are no 
longer childless. Parents only can understand— 
who remember the strange new joy that gushes up 
within them, when they press to their bosoms their 
first born child—the unutterable rapture of this 
noble pair, to whom, as He did to Abraham and 
Sarah, God fulfilled their fondest hopes, after those 
hopes themselves had expired, by giving them a son 
in their old age. 

Their kindred rejoiced with them, and at his 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


293 


circumcision they named the child Zachariah, after 
his father, but Elizabeth said, His name shall be 
called John/" They wonderingly referred the mat¬ 
ter to Zachariah, who wrote, His name is John."' 
Now that joyful father"s tongue is unloosed. The 
spirit of prophecy comes upon him, and while his 
face glows with the illumination of a seer, he ex¬ 
claims— 

“ Blessed be the Lord God of Israel! 

For he hath visited and redeemed his people, 

And hath raised up a horn of salvation for us 
In the house of his servant David; 

As he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, 

Which have been since the world began: 

That we should be saved by our enemies. 

And from the hand of all that hate us; 

To perform the mercy promised to our fathers. 

And to remember his holy covenant; 

The oath which he swore to our fathers. 

And to remember his holy covenant; 

The oath which he swore to our father Abraham, 

That he would grant unto us. 

That we, being delivered, out of the hand of our enemies, might 
serve him without fear. 

In holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our 
life.” 

And then looking with inexpressible tenderness 
upon the babe he folded to his bosom, he adds— 

“ And thou, child, shall be called the prophet of the Highest; 
For thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his 
ways. 

To give knowledge of salvation unto his people, 



294 


BEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


By the remission of their sins, through the tender mercy of 
our God: 

Whereby the day-spring from on high hath visited us, 

T o give light to them that sit in darkness and the shadow of 
death, 

To guide our feet in the way of peace.” 

We read no more of either of these parents. We 
have no further record of Elizabeth. But with the 
recorded facts fresh in your memory, I submit the 
following remarks for your consideration. 

1—Parents, and especially mothers, live in the 
lives of their children. 

They give them not only the peculiarities of their 
physical but of their intellectual and moral charac¬ 
ters. The old adage holds good as a general truth. 

Like mother, like child.’' And although nothing 
further is recorded of Elizabeth, yet in the history 
of her son, we know what her subsequent life must 
have been, for in her son’s character she lived, as 
color lives in a flower or light in a'star. 

Of her son it is said—The child grew and wax¬ 
ed strong in spirit.” But remember, he grew under 
the fostering care of his mother ; his spirit strength¬ 
ened under her energizing influence. She doubtless 
obeyed the command of the angel concerning him, 
that he should be brought up a Nazarite, eating no 
animal food, drinking no wine or strong drink. His 
father, being a priest, was able to instruct him in 
all the lore of the Kabbins ; while his mother could 
familiarize his mind with all the facts and doctrines 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


295 


of Scripture. They dwelt in seclusion at Hebron, 
in the hill country of Judea. There, beneath these 
sacred home influences, and amid the grand scenery 
of nature—mountains, beetling crags, frightful pre¬ 
cipices, dark caverns, and desert wastes, John was 
educated for his great work, as the herald of the 
new dispensation. And when he came forth on his 
great mission, behold how the leading characteristics 
of his mother developed themselves in him. He 
stands on the banks of the flowing Jordan, in whose 
lucid tide he has baptized hundreds of candidates, 
on a profession of their repentance for sin, and faith 
in the coming of the Messiah. A new candidate 
approaches and asks baptism. John recognizes in 
that new candidate his Lord and master : and with 
profound humility says—I have need to be bap¬ 
tized of thee, and wherefore comest thou to me 
Of what do these words remind you ? Have you 
forgotten what Elizabeth said to Mary before the 
birth of either of their sons, when she used almost 
this indentical language in her humble exclamation. 
Whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord 
should come to me V See you not the mothers" 
humility living in her son 

Another trait in Elizabeth's character was the 
devotedness of her piety. It burned like a quench¬ 
less altar flame. She did not, like Sarah, doubt the 
promise of God. And was it not said of her son 
that—he was a bright and a shining light 1” She 



296 


REPKESENTATIVE WOMEN 


also developed great fortitude and moral courage. 
And did not her son develop all the high elements 
of moral heroism ? Eememher his withering re¬ 
bukes of the hypocritical leaders of Judaism. Ke- 
memher his scathing denunciation of Herod’s licen¬ 
tiousness, which cost him his life. Learn hence, 
oh, mothers, your duty and your privilege. You 
may impress your own characters upon your chil¬ 
dren. For all the great purposes of usefulness, you 
inay live in their lives long after your bodies shall 
have been wrapt in their shrouds and decomposing 
in their sepulchre. 

In Japan they have this significant custom. At 
a wedding, the dearest friends of the bride present 
her with a veil, which covers her entire person. She 
wears it on that occasion, and then carefully laying 
it aside, it is never again brought forth until her 
death. Then it is produced, and wrapped around 
her pallid form as her shroud. Sooner or later, mo¬ 
thers, all of you will die. No bridal veils will en¬ 
velope your lifeless bodies, as they sleep in the dark 
mansions of the dead. But 0, if, like Elizabeth, 
you are faithful to your offspring, their grateful 
love will wreathe its undecaying folds around your 
remains ; cherish evergreen your memories, and 
reproduce in their lives your characters. 

When Napoleon Bonaparte was asked what France 
needed most, his reply was—“ Mothers.” 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


297 


*‘0 say to mothers, what a holy charge 
If theirs! With what a queenly power their love 
Can rule the fountain of the newborn mind 
Warn them to wake at early dawn and sow 
Good seed before the world hath sown her tares ; 

Nor in their toil decline, that angel bands 
May put their sickles in and reap for God 
And gather in His garner.” 

2—I beg you to consider the momentous question 
that was asked soon after the birth of Elizabeth’s 
son, concerning him. It was this—“ What manner 
of child shall this be ?” How this question must 
have thrilled the hearts of his parents ! True, of 
his general character and mission, Gabriel had in¬ 
formed them. But this information was merely a 
general outline, whose filling up they could not see : 
there was much that he did not tell them. They 
knew not the sufferings that awaited him. They 
knew not the murder the malicious mother of Hero- 
dias would plot ; and the weak and wicked Herod, 
fascinated by a dancing-girl, would perpetrate.— 
Elizabeth knew not that the tender body of the 
child, which she cradled in her arms, was to lie in 
the dark loathsomeness of a criminal’s dungeon ; 
that the beautiful head that pressed her bosom would 
be severed from its body by the executioner’s bloody 
axe ; and all ghastly, covered with its own gore, be 
carried by a dancing woman to her corrupt mother. 

Had she known these fearful futurities, perchance 
it had made her miserable, and unnerved her for her 



298 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


duty. Sometimes it is the glory of Grod to con¬ 
ceal a thing.'' Thus he has concealed from us the 
future of our children. But who of us who are pa¬ 
rents, can help exclaiming, as we look on our little 
ones, What manner of child shall this be Wo 
gaze at yon drunkard, wallowing in the gutter ; at 
yon libertine, who, preying upon innocence, is the 
greatest villain that walks God's earth, undamned ; 
,at yon, gambler, whose heart is petrified by the 
meanest vice ; we go into our jails and state-prisons, 
and behold them crowded with abandoned men ; 
and remember, that all these were once pure, inno¬ 
cent babes, just like those we so tenderly fondle, 
and then the question pierces our hearts like a dag¬ 
ger—What manner of child shall this be 0, 
it is not the greatest calamity to see our children 
die. I once heard an agonized mother exclaim, in 
yonder jail, as she took her last farewell of her son, 
about to be led to the scaffold to be hung for the 
murder of his wife, 0 my son, my son ! would 
God you had died when you were a babe !" In a 
city on the Hudson Kiver, lived a mother who had 
seven children—one girl and six boys. The only 
daughter sickened and died. The mother was to¬ 
tally unreconciled, and during several months she 
would go every day to her daughter's grave, and 
weep there. In her grief for the lost one, she failed 
to do her duty to those who remained. They lived, 
grew up to manhood, but so wicked were they, that. 



THE BELIEVING WIFE. 


299 


in her old age, she said to a friend—If my six 
boys had died in their early childhood, I should now 
be the happiest of mothers, for I should expect soon 
to meet them in bliss; but now I have no hope -for 
them.^^ 

In this ignorance of the future of our children, 
what shall loe do ? Just what Zachariah and Eliz¬ 
abeth did : bring them up in the nurture and ad¬ 
monition of the Lord”—giving them, in our lives 
correct examples, and in our teachings correct in¬ 
struction ; commit them to Him who hath promised 
—Train up a child in the way he should go, and 
when he is old he wdll not depart from it.” 

And oh ! if our sons, like the son of Elizabeth and 
Zachariah, shall grow up ])ure-hearted, serious- 
minded, humanity-loving, and God-fearing—what 
though, like him, they may be poor in perishable 
wealth ; what though, like him, they maybe perse¬ 
cuted for adherence to the truth ; or even called to 
seal their testimony with their blood, as he did ?— 
A grateful world shall bless their memory ; God’s 
sacred benizon shall be theirs. 

“ For they never fail who die » 

In a just cause. The block may soak 
Their gore ; their heads may sodden 
In the sun ; their limbs be strung 
To city-gates and castle-walls— 

But still their spirit walks abroad,” 

And never rest till the great cause triumphs.— 



300 


EEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Christian raother, as God called Elizabeth's son to 
a great public work, so that little boy at thy side 
may yet be called—to be the Judson, the Carey, or 
the Haswell, the Martyn, or Morrison of the future 
—proclaiming the Gospel to remote realms, where 
now the name of Jesus is unknown. That little 
girl by thy side may be, in the purpose of God, the 
future Harriet Newel or Ann H. Judson, of the mis¬ 
sionary enterprise. Teacher, that ragged boy in 
the street, whom you have interested to come to 
Sabbath School, may yet be the Wilberforce or 
Howard of some great reform, which shall yet shake 
the world. To his voice, pealing like a trumpet— 
as did John the Baptist's—a nation may listen. 

0 what manner of child shall this be ?" Ke- 
member, he will be, under God, just like the in¬ 
fluence you bring to bear upon him ; just like the 
instruction you give him ; the training to which 
you subject him. An angel might groan under 
such responsibility I 



M A K Y, 


lilotiju of |utts. 


Luke 1: 28, “ The angel came in v.nto her and said, Hail thov 
that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee ; blessed art thou among 
womens 

Some years ago, a book was published addressed 

to those who think/' The selection of such a title 
was certainly a mark of shrewdness in the author. 
For you perceive, that by means of it, he placed every 
person who saw the book in this dilemma—inasmuch 
as all desire to be regarded as thinkers—either to 
receive the book as addressed particularly to him¬ 
self, or by rejecting it, tacitly admit that he was not 
a thinker. 

Allow me to present a few thoughts to those 
who think." The object of the considerations I 
shall present, is to prepare the way for what I have 
to say upon the life and character of Mary. 

It is known to some at least, that there are those 
whose views of Mary and her Son our Lord, are of 




302 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


such a nature, that if I were even to mention them 
an indignant blush would mantle every virtuous 
cheek. Such especially I entreat to weigh the fol¬ 
lowing considerations. Suppose Grod and man sus¬ 
tain the relation of Lawgiver and lav;-violator. 
Still Grod loves man as his creature, and would save 
him from the pollution of sin and its legal penalty, 
hut such is the nature of the divine government, 
that the sinner cannot he saved unless some method 
can he adopted which shall satisfy the law, so that God 
can he just and yet justify any. Suppose that the 
only possible method for accomplishing this double 
object, is an atonement. But, the provision of an 
atonement adequate to the dignity of violated law, 
and the exigencies of the offender, requires the 
sacrifice of one—whose nature shall represent 
equally the dignity of the Lawgiver and the hu¬ 
manity of the transgressor. In him Deity and hu¬ 
manity must he united—Deity, that he may give 
value to the offering—humanity, that he may obey 
the positive precepts, and endure the penal sanc¬ 
tions of the law human nature has violated. But 
can you conceive of such a personage, unless you 
suppose the advent of one, whose nature, while it is 
essentially human, is also free from the taint of de¬ 
pravity ? For if it inherits the pollution of sin, 
then he would he a sinner—and so far from being 
adequate to the redemption of a race of sinners, he 
would need a savior himself. And how could the 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


303 


result have been different from this, had the Mes¬ 
siah entered into the world by the ordinary process 
of human generation ? 

In the second person of the adorable Trinity we 
discover a being whose divine nature is fully ade¬ 
quate, but how shall he posess the requsite hu¬ 
manity ? I ask you, how could even Grod provide 
for his Son a sinless humanity ? You answer. 
He might have created a body for him as he did for 
Adam. But see you not that then he would not 
have been bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh ? 
He would have been a new creation with other blood 
khan ours flowing through his veins. The only 
other conceivable method by which He could become 
immaculately incarnate was the one the Bible de¬ 
clares was adopted. But the doubter says this 
method involved the miraculous conception of our 
Saviour. Obviously it does. But see you not that 
if the other method you suggest had been pursued, 
and God had created a new body, as Adam’s was, 
that the miracle would have been far greater ? 
Then I submit to you, that upon the theory that 
the above suppositions are truths, that the miracu¬ 
lous conception of our Lord’s humanity was a logi¬ 
cal necessity. Now the Bible, on the authority of 
God, affirms that such are the facts, that these suppo¬ 
sitions are truths, and that the necessity they created 
was met in the way the New Testament records, 
than which our reason can conceive of no other. As 



304 


REPBESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


I said before, I address these thoughts to those 
who think."’ 

I propose to review the recorded events of Marfs 
life, and then consider her relations to prophecy and 
to the Gospel. 

She is presented to us as residing at Nazareth, 
her native home. This was a small town in 
Gallilee, west of Capernaum. It was built part¬ 
ly in a valley, and partly on the declivity of a 
hill. The valley spread out before it, resembles a 
circular basin, encompassed by mountains. Around 
that fertile vale, fifteen different mountains meet, 
and form its enclosure. In the north stands the 
majestic Hermon; southward the castellated heights 
of Tabor ; directly south, peers upward bleak and 
dewless Gilboa : adjoining which, arise the blue hills 
of Samaria, and venerable Carmel, standing like a 
sentinel by the sea. Begirt with mountains like 
these, Mary’s home looked down upon the great 
battle-plain of Esdraelon, rich in stirring associations 
of ancient story. In Nazareth, a village whose very 
name had become proverbial, lived old Heli, through 
whose veins flowed the blood of David, and his gen¬ 
tle virgin daughter. 

There is no allusion whatever to her physical ap¬ 
pearance, but the Christian imagination has invest¬ 
ed her with every attribute of the highest female 
beauty. It seems to me, however, that it will be 
more appropriate to think of her, as an artless. 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


305 


Jewisla maiden^ developing those peculiar features 
which mark her race. Many Komish pictures, over¬ 
looking the fact that she was a Jewess, represent 
her with auburn hair, azure eyes, and a blond com¬ 
plexion. Rome has ever hated the poor Jew, and 
no where is he more despised than in the Eternal 
City."' The hatred of her race, easily supplies a 
motive for divesting the woman they adore of the 
peculiarities of her people. The type of Jewish 
beauty, however, is like no other. It combines 
these points : black hair, a broad forehead, lustrous 
dark eyes, fringed by long lashes, finely arched eye¬ 
brows, an aquiline nose, full red lips, a rich deep 
complexion, which even the warm pencil of southern 
artists has never fully represented. In your imagi¬ 
nation, picture all these, connected with a delicate 
yet symmetrically rotund figure, and you have the 
true ideal of the person of Mary. 

Her early piety is undoubted. She was in keen 
sympathy with the pious of her nation, in the ex¬ 
pectation of a speedily coming Messiah. In com¬ 
mon with Jewish females, perchance she had often 
wondered who should be the honored woman of 
Israel whom God would choose. 

But when we become acquainted with her, she is 
no longer a free-hearted maiden ; she has given her 
affections, and has promised her hand in marriage 
to a young carpenter named Joseph. The betrothal 
ceremony among her people was on this wise. The 



306 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


accepted lover, in the presence of her family, took 
the maiden’s hand, and placing within it a small 
golden coin, said—Accept this as a pledge that 
thou shalt become my wife.” That ceremony has 
passed between Joseph and Mary. Joyfully she 
Avaits the coming hour when she shall be led to the 
bridal altar. All sunlight are the sweet visions of 
domestic bliss that dance before her imagination. 
How little she dreams of the high honor the pur¬ 
pose of God had decreed for her ! But the moment 
hath come for its fulfillment. Gabriel, who thou¬ 
sands of years before, descending from his celestial 
home, had developed the outline of the redemptive 
])lan to the dwellers of Mesopotamia, and who re¬ 
vealed to Daniel, on the banks of the Ulai, that four 
hundred and ninety years should elapse before the 
Messiah would come, now appeared to her, and in 
accents soft as angels use, said to the trembling 
maiden, Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found favor 
with God, and behold thou shalt conceive and bring 
forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He 
shall be great, and shall be called the son of the 
Highest, and the Lord God shall give unto him the 
throne of his father David. And he shall rei^n 

O 

over the house of Jacob forever ; and of his king¬ 
dom there shall be no end.” 

Overwhelmed with astonishment she wonderingly 
replies, How shall this be, for I am yet a vir¬ 
gin With a grand majesty Gabriel responds. 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


307 


The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee ; and the 
power of the highest shall overshadow thee ; there¬ 
fore that holy thing that shall be born of thee shall 
be called the Son of God.^’ And then, to confirm 
her confidence he utters this eternal truth, With 
God nothing is impossible."' In a moment passage 
after passage of ancient promise, dazzling as the 
lightning, flashes upon her memory, relating to the 
birth of the Messiah ; and in the tumult of her ex¬ 
citement, submission to the divine will predomi¬ 
nates, and she exclaims, Behold the handmaid of 
the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word." 

Gabriel's mission is accomplished. Unfurling his 
glittering pinions he soars homeward. Oh, what 
emotions awoke in her young soul ; how inconceiv¬ 
ably sublime the destiny before her ; Mother of the 
Messiah, prophet, priest and king, whose dominion 
shall be universal and everlasting ! Well may her 
brain reel, her eye flash, her pulses throb, her heart 
quiver. 

This was the Annunciation. 

The next event is her visit to Elizabeth. We 
had occasion to notice this in our last lecture ; but 
I propose now to point out to you the historic places 
she passed on her way to her cousin, during her five 
days' journey. Descending the hill, her course was 
southward, and issued from the valley through a 
chasm between the mountains, beneath whose sha¬ 
dows, in olden times, Barak pitched his tents, and 



308 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Deborah prophecied. At this point the river 
Kishon came in view, into whose waters the armies 
of Israel drove their routed foes. Crossing a speer 
of the mountain, on the left, desolate Gilboa, 
where the God-abandoned Saul committed suicide, 
presented its northern side. Passing over the val¬ 
ley of Jezreel, she beheld, on the left, in the dis¬ 
tance, the lofty heights of Bashan, and going on¬ 
ward to Samaria, through Sychar, near Jacob’s well, 
approached the ancient sepulchres, where lie slum¬ 
bering the dust of the patriarch Joseph. Conceive, 
if you can, Mary’s emotions as she gazed upon those 
hoary resting places of the venerated dead ! Con¬ 
tinuing her journey, she went by Bethel, where, in 
olden time, Jacob slept and dreamed ; and after a 
day’s travel she reached Jerusalem, seated upon its 
throne of hills, crowned with its gorgeous temple, 
whose golden ornaments flashed in the sunlight like 
a diadem of fire ; advancing southward six miles, 
she came to Bethlehem, in whose barley-fields Kuth 
gleaned, and hastening on arrived at Hebron, the 
home of Elizabeth. 

Now, let us stop and ask, wherefore she made this 
long and tedious journey ? Was it to confirm her 
own faith in the divinity of the annunciation ? Was 
it to secure Elizabeth’s influence in satisfying her 
betrothed Joseph ? Was it merely to communi¬ 
cate the joyful intelligence to her cousin ? Or, in 
her youth and inexperience did she come for sym- 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


309 


pathy and advice from her aged relative ? One fact 
will aid us to an answer. In the annunciation Gabriel 
had informed her that Elizabeth was also about to 
become a mother, as confirmatory of the divinity of 
his message to her ; and now she hath come to test 
the confirmation. 

After the welcome salutation, the venerable 
woman, filled with the Holy Spirit, before Mary 
had told her a word, exclaims, Blessed art thou 
among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, 
and blessed is she that believeth, for there shall be 
a performance of those things told her from the 
Lord.” At this announcement Mary^s last fear de¬ 
parts, her brightest hopes are confirmed, her timi¬ 
dity gives place to the loftiest courage, her grateful 
spirit bursts forth in a song of thanksgiving, to 
justly appreciate which, I beg you to conceive of 
her in all the richness of her pure beauty, with 
flashing eyes, glowing cheeks, quivering lips, utter¬ 
ing these grand words, in a voice low and tremulous 
with deepest emotion, while her venerable cousin 
listens with rapture. With this picture before your 
mind, hear her splendid utterance— 

“ My soul doth magnify the Lord, 

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior ! 

For He hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden. 

For behold, from henceforth all natims shall call me blessed 1 
For He that is mighty hath done tc me great things j 
And holy is His name; 



310 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


And his mercy is on them that fear him, 

From generation to generation. 

He hath showed strength with his arm; 

He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. 
He hath put down the mighty from their seats, 

And exalted them of low degree. 

He hath filled the hungry with good things. 

And the rich hath he sent empty away. 

He hath helped his servant Israel, • 

In remembrance of his mercy, as he spake to our fathers. 

To Abraham and his seed forever !” 

I beg you to consider this impromptu anthem, as 
an indication of the intellectuality as well as spiri¬ 
tuality of Mary. As a composition, it compares 
favorably with the noblest ancient or modern poetry. 
In its grand tones, it equals the songs of Miriam, 
Deborah, and Hannah. 

Next came Mary^s first trial. She was betroth¬ 
ed, not married to Joseph. Bear in mind that the 
penalty for infidelity to a betrothed one, was death 
by stoning, according to Jewish law. Observe the 
perplexity of her case. Timid maiden that she was, 
how could she explain all to Joseph, or even expect 
him to credit her should she do so. Conscious of 
her own purity, she calmly committed her hopes 
and fears to God. But the hour of her bitter trial 
came. Joseph suspected her. His brow became 
clouded. His manners cold and distant. You can 
but ask, why did she not inform him of all that had 
occurred ? I answer, that she had received no di¬ 
rection from the angel to attempt any vindication 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


311 


of herself. She left her character, as innocence 
never fears to do, with the God of the innocent ! 
Joseph, loving her dearly, and not willing to expose 
her to danger, resolved to give her a private divorce, 
although it wrung his heart with agony, and blasted 
his dearest life hopes. But at this fearful crisis, 
while buried in the slumbers of night, Gabriel, pois¬ 
ing on his white wings, bent over the sleepless 
couch, and whispered in his ear—“Joseph, thou 
son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy 
wife ; for that which is conceived in her, is of the 
Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and 
thou shalt call his name Jesus : for he shall save 
his people from their sins.” 

The sleeper awakes. And lo, after the gloomy 
night of torturing sorrow, the bright morning of joy 
hath dawned. Joseph remembers the words of the 
angel—and while he thinks of them, suddenly the 
thought flashes over his mind, wliy^ this is in ac¬ 
cordance with prophecy —for Isaiah wrote six hun¬ 
dred years ago, “ Behold a virgin shall conceive, 
and bring forth a son, and they shall call his name 
Immanuel—God with us.” Now, perceiving the 
fulfillment, he hastens to his betrothed, in a deli¬ 
rium of joy, and looking upon her clear, open brow, 
and mild truth-telling eyes, never did she appear so 
transcendantly lovely ; and just man that he was, 
he lead her to his home, as his own beauteous and 



312 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


unsullied bride, and thus ended Mary’s first, great 
trial. 

Before the occurrence of the next great event, 
months passed away. The Emperor issued an edict, 
that all his subjects should be taxed. Neander says, 
“ The Emperor Augustus had ordered a general 
census of the Eoman Empire, partly to obtain cor¬ 
rect statistics of its resources, and partly for pur¬ 
poses of taxation. As Judea was then a depen¬ 
dency of the Empire, Augustus probably intend¬ 
ed to reduce it to a province ; and in order to 
secure similar statistics of that country, order¬ 
ed Herod to take the census. In performing 
his duty, Herod followed the Jewish usage—a 
division of tribes.'' King Herod publishes the 
edict to the Jews, and orders each individual 
to repair to the native city of his family.— 
Joseph and Mary belonging to the family of David, 
must go to Bethlehem, David's birth-place and pos¬ 
session as part of the ancient allotment of his family. 
Thither they go, and find the city crowded, inso¬ 
much that there is no room for them in the inn," 
and they are compelled to take shelter for the night 
in a rocky cavern used as a stable. 

The hum of the city is hushed. All unconscious 
is the sleeping world of the mighty event which 
shall transpire ere the morning dawns. But the 
predestined hour is come ; Mary folds in maternal 
arms the infant Messiah ; and while Strange and 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


313 


unutterable emotions fill her soul, tenderly she wraps 
him in swaddling clothes, and lays him in the man¬ 
ger. Oh, I have been familiar with this sacred 
story from earliest childhood. A sainted mother 
sang it over my cradle. But the heart of my man¬ 
hood lingers around it to-day with unutterable in¬ 
terest, as I see the Son of God, occupant of heaven's 
most brilliant throne, now incarnate, lying in a man¬ 
ger as a helpless babe ; as I see the uncreated di¬ 
vinity veiled in the garb of my humanity ; as I re¬ 
member the inconceivable magnitude of His mission 
to earth, and the infinite depths of that condescen¬ 
sion which led him to appear among earth's poorest, 
lowliest ones, and reflect, that, surrounded by none 
of the ordinary comforts of life,— 

“ Cold on His cradle the dew-drops were shining— 

Low laid His head with the beasts of the stall.” 

Alas, the race knows not that its Kedeemer hath 
come. Oppressed, crushed, weeping humanity knows 
not that its Deliverer hath appeared; that the 
morning of its long and sorrowful night hath dawned. 

“ Thou wast born of woman; thou didst come, 

0 holiest! to this world of sin and gloom, 

Not in thy dread omnipotent array ; 

And not by thunder strew’d 
Was thy tempestuous road— 

Nor indignation burned before thee on thy way; 

But thee a soft and naked child, 

Thy mother undefiled. 

In the rude manger laid to rest 
From off her virgin breast. 



314 


EEPBESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


The heavens were not commanded to prepare 
A gorgeous canopy of golden air, 

Nor stoop’d their lamps th’ enthroned fires on high; 

A single, silent star 
Came wandering from afar, 

Gliding, unchecked and calm, along the liquid sky; 

The eastern sages leading on, 

As at a kingly throne 

To lay their gold and odors sweet 

Before thy infant feet.” 

It had been written of old, that, ^^when the 
First Begotten is brought into the world, all the 
angels of Grod shall worship Him.’' Mark its ful- 
fillwmt I Out on the plain shepherds are watching 
their flocks : on their wondering ears Gabriel utters 
the startling announcement—Behold, I bring you 
glad tidings of great joy, which shall he to all peo¬ 
ple ; for unto you is horn, this day, in the city of 
David, a Saviour—Christ the Lord. And this shall 
he the sign to you : ye shall find the babe wrapped in 
swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger.” But ere 
they can arise to depart, the heavens glow with the 
brightness of an angelic choir, who with voices trained 
in the melodies of eternity, sing the advent anthem. 
Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, and good 
will to men.” The music dies away. Leaning toward 
the point where the choir disappeared, the shepherds 
wait to catch the last note, and then, leaving their 
flocks, hasten to the stable, and kneel in devout 
adoration around the sleeping babe 1 

Forty days passed away. The rites of circumci- 



THE MOTHER OP JESUS. 


315 


sion and purification were accomplished ; and with 
her husband and precious child, Mary appeared in 
the temple to present him unto his Father God.— 
Not able to bring a lamb for sacrifice, they brought 
a pair of doves, the offering of the poor. The cere¬ 
mony was finished,, and two venerable persons ap¬ 
proached them. The one was an aged man, whose 
locks were white as the driven snow, who took the 
infant Saviour in his emaciated arms, and exclaimed, 

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in 
peace according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen 
thy salvation.” And then, glancing along the line 
of the divinely illuminated future, he said to Mary, 
—“ This child is set for the fall and rising again of 
many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be spoken 
against, yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own 
soul, that the thoughts of many hearts may be re¬ 
vealed.” The other was an old woman, who, with 
bending form and tottering step, pressed the babe 
to her withered bosom ; and then spake of Him 
to all those who looked for redemption in Israel.” 

From their distant observatories, eastern philoso¬ 
phers had marked the appearance of a strange star, 
in the western sky. Among the ancients, the ap¬ 
pearance of a star or comet was regarded as an omen 
of some remarkable event. Bear in mind that all 
eastern nations, through whom the Jews were scat¬ 
tered, had the expectation that a remarkable person 
was soon to appear. Suetonius, a Roman historian, 



316 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


speaking of this; says : An ancient and settled 
persuasion prevailed throughout the east, that the 
fates had decreed some one to proceed from Judea, 
who should attain universal empire.'' Tacitus, Jo¬ 
sephus, and Philo—the first a Eoman, the two lat¬ 
ter Jewish historians—record the same fact. It 
was natural, therefore, for the wise men to associate 
that expectation with the new star. They hastened 
to Jerusalem, appeared before Herod, and inquired 
of him, Where is He that is born King of the 
Jews ?" Herod's jealousy was aroused. He ascer¬ 
tained from the Eahhins that the Messiah was to he 
born in Bethlehem, and sent the magi thither, 
charging them to bring him word when they had 
found Him. Guided by the star, which finally stood 
still over Mary’s home, they entered it, and bending 
in homage before the infant King, presented unto 
Him gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 

But that persecution which is to follow Jesus 
from the manger to the cross, has commenced.— 
Herod, maddened by the failure of the wise men to 
return, issues the terrible decree, that all the chil¬ 
dren in Bethlehem, under two years of age, shall be 
murdered, simply in order to secure the destruction 
of Jesus. But warned from heaven, Joseph and 
Mary are far beyond his reach, in the land of the 
pyramids, where they remained until Herod died. 

Twelve years more passed away. Mary, Joseph, 
and Jesus attended the feasts at Jerusalem. Jesus 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


317 


went into the temple, and discussed great questions 
with the Kabhins. His parents returned homeward, 
supposing Him to be in the company. Discovering 
their mistake, they returned to the city, and having 
found Him, Mary said, Knowest thou not that 
we have sought thee sorrowing ?” With a respectful 
gentleness. He replied, Knowest thou not that I 
must be about my Father's business V’ Observe 
here, Jesus never recognized Joseph as His father, 
although He was subject unto him, by virtue of his 
relation to His mother. 

During eighteen years we have no record of the 
history of Mary and her Son. They lived in quiet 
seclusion, while his youth bloomed into manhood. 
How commingled must have been her maternal and 
reverential emotions as she gazed upon her won¬ 
drous child ! 

“Day 

Followed on day, like any childhood’s passing : 

And silently sat Mary at her wheel, 

And watched the hoy-Messiah as she spun: 

And as a human child unto its mother 
Subject the while. He did her low voice bidding— 

Or gently came to lean upon her knee. 

And ask her of the thoughts that in Him stirred 
Dimly as yet—or with affection sweet, 

Tell, murm’ring of His weariness—and then. 

All tearful-hearted, (as a human mother 
Unutterably fond, while touched with awe,) 

She paused, or with tremulous hand spun on— 

The blessings that her lips instructive gave 
Asked of Him with an instant thought again.’' 



318 


KEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


The first event after his showing unto Israel"" 
transpired in Gallilee. He has entered upon his 
public work. There was a wedding in Cana. The 
adorable One graced the marriage feast with his 
presence. His mother also was there. She 
would have him manifest his power by working a 
miracle. Gently chiding her haste, in the most ten¬ 
der tone and manner, he said, Woman, what have 
I to do with thee—mine hour has not yet come."" 

The next record of her is a public incident. 
Jesus was preaching to a crowd. His mother and 
brethren were on its outskirt. She feared that harm 
would come to him, and the crowd being so great that 
she could not get near him, sent this message, Thy 
mother and brethren are without desiring to speak 
with thee."" But, wrapt up in the sublimity of his 
mission, He exclaimed, Who is my mother ? And 
who are my brethren ? For whosoever shall do 
the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same 
is my brother, and sister, and mother."" 

We have now reached the last great incident of her 
life. Calvary, crowned with its ignominious crosses, 
looms up before us. On its central cross hangs the 
atoning Saviour. Out of five gaping wounds his 
life-blood is gushing. Upon his pale brow gather 
the dew-drops of death. Look ! what woman 
kneels in writhing agony at his feet, and gazes with 
Bucli unutterable, tearless grief into his expiring 
face ? Ah, it is she, who folded his infant form to 



THE MOTHEK OF JESUS. 


319 


her glad bosom in Bethlehem's stable. It is she, 
who, with holy pride, presented him to God in the 
temple when she heard those prophetic words of 
Simeon, sword shall pierce through thine own 
soul"—words which have rung like a funereal knell 
in her ears for thirty-three years, and now, alas, she 
feels that sword sundering her heart. It is she 
who watched over his budding boyhood and bloom¬ 
ing manhood. It is she who bears to him a rela¬ 
tion which none other in the universe can. It is his 
mother. As she gazes upon those familiar and be¬ 
loved features, she asks herself, wi]l he not speak to 
me once more ? Behold his dying eye fastens with 
unearthly tenderness upon her. His lips move, he 
speaks, Woman, behold thy son !" and looking 
toward the beloved John, who supports her, he says. 

Behold thy mother !" and from that hour that 
disciple took her to his own home." Eusebius, the 
historian, says she lived fifteen years after the cru¬ 
cifixion, and then died in the triumphs of faith. 

These are all the recorded incidents in the life of 
Mary, the mother of Jesus. From our h*eart we 
exclaim with the poet— 


St. Mary mother, ever blessed ! 

Beneath the cross we part, 

At the dread moment when the sword 
Pierceth thy very heart. 



320 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


We part from thee amid the storm 
Of Jews and heathens’ rage, 

But once to see thy name again 
Upon the Sacred page. 

II. 

Of the bright cloud of witnesses 
From Holy Writ that gleam, 

One face of meekness, love and faith 
Dearer than all doth seem. 

Oh! who can marvel thou sliouldst be 
In ignorance adored! 

Thou chosen one of all the earth ! 

Thou mother of our Lord! 

I 

III. 

St. Mary, mother, how we yearn 
More of thy life to know ! 

A life of so much blessedness, 

A life of so much woe ! 

But God in wisdom hath not willed 
Such knowledge e’er should be ; 

Beyond the darkened blood-stained cross 
We may not follow thee. 


IV. 

For forty days of ecstacy 
We/egZ where thou didst roam, 

But long in vain to see the spot 
Which thou didst call thy home. 
Oh, that one glimpse to cur dim eyes, 
One shadowy glimpse were given. 
To teach us that our earthly home 
May glow with light from heaven 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


321 


V. 

Perchance it was a lovely place, 

Men passed unheeded by, 

Who would have mocked, if told how near 
It towered to the sky. 

But there, St. Mary, thou didst dwell 
With the beloved one. 

Him whom our dying Christ hath deemed 
.r Meet to be called “ thy Son.” 

VI. 

There, oft in early Christian times. 

Were lifted heart and voice. 

As in your Saviour and your God 
Ye ceased not to rejoice. 

While still ye talked, day after day, 

With earnest, tearful smile. 

Of Him who had departed hence 
For but a little while. 

VIL 

Would we indeed of that bright spot 
One shadowy glimpse were given. 

To teach us how an earthly home 
May glow with light from heaven 1 
Then let us seek the Holy Word, 

Which thou, St. John, did write; 

’Twill be as if that household blest 
Arose before our sight. 

VIII. 

Thy word were humble as thy homo 
But for the light above; 

Yet on thy page and on thy walls 
One word is beaming—Love. 

14 # 



322 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


Many an earthly home might he 
Like that wherein ye dwelt, 

Did we but strive each day to feel 
The love ye ever felt. 

In connection with the foregoing incidents, I beg 
you to consider the prophetical relations, and cha¬ 
racter of Mary. 

One of the immovable pillars upon which the di¬ 
vinity of the Bible rests, is the argument from pro¬ 
phecy. It never has been, it never will be shaken. 
The fulfillment of prophecies concerning Babylon, 
Tyre, Nineveh, Jerusalem, and the Jews, is so as¬ 
tonishing, that infidelity stands appalled before it. 
So overwhelming is its attestation of the truth of 
the Bible, that no candid mind can thoroughly 
grasp it, and retain a doubt in regard to the inspi¬ 
ration of this holy book. But to my own mind the 
fulfillment of prophecies concerning Jesus and his 
mother, Mary, is still more interesting and conclu¬ 
sive. Trace with me now the line of prophecy, 
from Eden's garden to Bethlehem's manger. 

Four thousand years before, in Eden, after the 
faU, the promise was given that “ the seed of the 
woman," not of man, should bruise the serpent's 
head." One thousand years after that, Enoch pro- 
phecied, Behold the Lord cometh." Three hun¬ 
dred and fifty years later, Abraham, a descendant 
of Shem, a single person was chosen out of a world 
gone into idolatry, to be the grand progenitor of 
the predicted Messiah. Afterwards, the promise 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


323 


was individualized to Isaac, then to Jacob, in the 
very terms of the Eden oracle, In thee and in thy 
seed shall all the nations of the earth he blessed/* 
On his death-bed, in Egypt, Jacob prophecied, 
The sceptre shall not depart from Judah nor a 
lawgiver from between his feet until Shiloh come/* 
Observe two specifications— 

First, of the tribe from which he should come ; 
second, of the time when he should appear. 

Two hundred and fifty years later, Moses foretold 
the prophet whom Grod would raise up ; and Balaam 
saw in the hazy future a “ star that should arise out 
of Jacob.** Then came the mute prophecies of insti¬ 
tutions, such as the paschal lamb, the scape goaty 
the day and blood of atonement. 

Four hundred years pass away, and David, of the 
tribe of Judah, forms the royal and prophetic suc¬ 
cession, and Messianic predictions are woven like 
golden threads through the rich brocade of the 
Psalms/* 

Two hundred years later still, Isaiah, the gospel 
prophet, foretold these particulars, that the Mes¬ 
siah would be born of a virgin, should bear the 
name of Immanuel, should be a man of sorrows, de¬ 
spised of men, be put to death, rise again, and, by 
his resurrection, swallow up death in victory. Mi- 
cah, seven hundred years before the advent, wrote : 
'' And thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be 
little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee 



324 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


shall He come forth unto me, that is to bc ruler in 
Israel, whose goings forth have been of old, from 
everlasting.’^ Daniel prophecied the rise and fall 
of four empires, and the perpetuity of a fifth. He 
foretold the time, in prophetic weeks, still later.— 
Haggai cried out, Yet a little while, and I will 
shake the heavens, earth, sea, and dry land : and 
the desire of all nations shall come.” And Mala- 
chi, the last prophet, joyfully exclaimed to the pious 
Jews, four hundred years before the advent, The 
Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come into His 
temple, even the messenger of the covenant whom 
ye delight in.” 

Now, in the events of Mary’s life, which I have 
narrated to you, behold the literal fulfillment of this 
long line of prophecies, reaching from the garden 
to the cross. Just as Daniel’s prophetic time has 
expired, the sceptre departed from Judah, and the 
world is waiting for His appearance, Messiah ap¬ 
pears, the seed of the woman, the offspring of a virgin, 
of the Jewish nation, of the tribe of Judah, of the 
family of David ; born at Bethlehem, called out of 
Egypt, despised as a Nazarene ; a man of sorrows, 
bearing our griefs, expiring on Calvary, arising on 
the third appointed day out of Joseph’s new tomb, 
and ascending in triumph. Of this long line of 
prophecies, stretching over four thousand years, 
thus literally fulfilled, what think ye ? 0 let it be 

a golden chain to bind this Bible to your heart t 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS, 


325 


The incidents of Mary’s life enable us to form a 
correct idea of her character and relation to the 
Gospel scheme. 

These have been subjects of discussion for ages. 
The Eomish Church has for centuries worshiped 
Mary, ascribing to her divine honors. That church 
has, overlooking the fact, that she was merely the 
mother of the humanity of Christ, styled her mo¬ 
ther of God”—queen of heaven”—advocate of 
sinners.” It has commanded prayers to he offered 
to her. It has established five annual festivals, to 
celebrate her greatness, and keep alive the devo¬ 
tion of her worshipers. At Milan there is an altar- 
piece in memory of St. Bernard, representing two 
ladders reaching from earth to heaven, at the top 
of one of which stands Christ, and at the other 
Mary ; and while those who attempt to ascend by 
Christ fall back unsuccessful, those who go up by 
Mary’s ladder all get safely in. 

In the thirteenth century a Florentine order arose, 
named The Servants of Mary. St. Philip Benizi 
wrote for their use the Manual, called The Seven 
Sorroivs of the Virgin ; and St. Bonaventure twice 
paraphrased the Psalms in her honor. The first 
church dedicated to her was the St. Maria in Tras- 
tevere at Eome. It still stands, and gives evidence 
of great antiquity. To obtain any adequate idea 
of the honor paid her, one must be at Genoa during 
the Festival of the Annunciation. On one of the 



326 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


gates of that city is inscribed, The City of the 
Most Holy Mary and when the period of that 
festival arrives, all business is suspended, the altars 
of the Virgin are covered with flowers, and each 
person bears a tulip to remind him of her, while the 
city echoes with the ringing of bells and chimes, 
and the following monastic chant floats on the air : 

“ Hail, Mary ! queen of heavenly spheres, 

Hail, whom the angelic host reveres ! 

Hail, fruitful root! Hail, sacred gate. 

Whence the world’s light derives its date ! 

0 glorious Maid, with beauty blest! 

May joys eternal fill thy breast! 

Thus crowned with beauty and with joy. 

Thy prayers for us, with Christ employ.” 

The present Pope has lately convoked bishops 
from all parts of the world, who, by 'vote, have de¬ 
cided that it is an article of divine faith that the 
mother of God, our ever blessed lady, was conceived 
without original stain.’^ 

On the eighth of last December, amid gorgeous 
pomp, Pio Nino, in St. Peter’s Church, read the 
decision of the bishops. It took a whole half hour 
to read the document. It is said the poor old man, 
who is compelled to keep an army of foreign soldiers 
between him and the affections of his people, was 
obliged to stop several times and wipe the tears 
from his eyes, with his lace pocket handkerchief. I 
have a theory of my own about that whimpering.— 
Ah, what a pity that he has no tears to shed over 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS, 


327 


the ignorance, superstition, and poverty of those 
who call him Father ! Queen Isabella of Spain, 
with the turpitude of whose moral character the 
world is familiar, has presented the Pope with a 
magnificent tiara, worth two hundred thousand 
francs, encircled with eighteen thousand brilliants, 
in gratitude for his decision in regard to Mary. 

Now, that this is a false view of Mary’s charac¬ 
ter and relation to the Gospel, is evident from the 
fact that Mary herself never believed it. If she 
was born without sin, she lived without sin, and 
therefore needed no Saviour. But she said, My 
spirit doth rejoice in God my Saviour.” Christ gave 
no intimation of any such doctrine. If it were true, 
would he not have taught it to his disciples ? 
Would he not, if it is a Christian duty to pray to 
her, to pay her divine homage, to seek her media¬ 
tion—have plainly enjoined it ? Assuredly. But 
he never did. What then have the Pope and his 
Bishops done ? They have added to the injunctions 
of the Bible. And Jesus himself said, If any 
man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto 
him the plagues written in this book.” 

In this connection a thought has flashed upon me 
which I never saw or heard before. It has always 
seemed to me remarkable, that Jesus, speaking to 
Mary in the presence of others, never called her 

mother,” but always woman.” Did he not fore¬ 
see this tendency of human nature to idolatry, in 



328 


REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


worshiping her, and did he not thus early discoun¬ 
tenance it ? 

Had the Lord Jesus Christ been present at that 
gorgeous array of purple, fine linen, gold rings, and 
worldly pomp which convened at the council refer¬ 
red to—where Bishops, deaf to the wails of a suf¬ 
fering world—solemnly talked about the immacu¬ 
late conception of his mother, would he not have 
said to them, as he said to the Jews, Who is my 
mother ? And who are my brethren ? He that 
doth the will of my Father which is in heaven, the 
same is my brother, and sister, and mother.” 

The falsity of this papal view is seen also in the 
fact, that she had no connection with the 'public 
ministr'y of Christ. During its three years continu¬ 
ance we hear of her only three times, and then in¬ 
cidentally. At Cana he rebuked her and said. 

Woman, what have'I to do with thee?” At 
another time, “ a certain woman of the company 
lifted up her voice, and said unto him. Blessed is 
the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou 
hast sucked.” But he said, Yea, rather blessed are 
they that hear the word of God, and keep it.” 

Its falseness is also seen in the fact, that in the 
twenty-one apostolical epistles of the New Testa¬ 
ment, there is not even a single reference to Mar'y^ 
of an'y hind, not even b'y John, with whom she lived 
after the death of Christ, nor even b'y James, tht 
brother of our Lord. And in the book of Revela' 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


329 


tions^ where the future of the true church is re¬ 
vealed, you find no reference to her. But in that 
book heaven is also opened to us, the throne of God 
and the Lamb is brought to view, but we see no 
deification of Mary. 

The falsity of this view is further seen in the fact 
that the early church had no such ideas of the 
mother of Jesus. During the first four centuries 
none of the fathers dreamed of such idolatry, and 
no delineaiions of her are found on Christian 
monuments, or on the tombs of early believers, in 
the catecombs of Kome ; nor among the epitaphs 
there do we ever find the petition addressed to her, 

Ora pro nobis.It was not until a religious for¬ 
malism, borrowing its gorgeous ceremonials from 
heathenism, was substituted for spiritual Chris¬ 
tianity, that the origin of the movement concerning 
the worship of Mary, which has just reached its cul¬ 
mination, commenced. Then she became the sub¬ 
ject of the painter's art. And at first they always 
represented her veiled, but afterwards the immortal 
Raphael achieved his highest triumph, in represen¬ 
tations of her unveiled, embracing her child. Then, 
this sentimental admiration of her character, aided 
by these magnificent representations of her person, 
soon expanded into God-less adoration. But all 
this was unknown to the apostolic and early churches. 

This view is also in direct opposition to the Bible. 
It commands us to worship God alone. This, to 



330 


BEPRESENTATIVE WOMEN. 


worsHp Mary. It declares that there is but one 
mediator between God and man—the man Christ 
Jesus. This teaches us to seek the mediation of 
Mary. It teaches that there is but one way to 
heaven, through the merits of Christ. This declares 
that there is another, through the merits of Mary. 
It, therefore, robs God of the divine glory due his 
name alone. It robs Christ of his glory, as the 
only Saviour of men. It robs the Holy Spirit of the 
glory of his office work. It robs the Bible of its 
glory as a complete revelation by adding a dogma. 
It injures souls by diverting their attention from 
the only supreme object of love and obedience. It 
is sheer idolatry, over which, as she looks upon it 
from her radiant home, Mary would weep bitter 
tears, if grief could be felt in heaven. 

In conclusion, I merely add that you can easily 
perceive what her true character and relation to the 
gospel was. With an open Bible before us, we be¬ 
hold her a mere woman, highly honored and blessed 
of the Lord. Standing in the centre of human gen¬ 
erations, she looms up before us, as in the sublimity 
of the highest honored of humanity—herself, like 
the rest of our race, conceived in sin, and brought 
forth in iniquity. We behold her a virtuous mo¬ 
ther of several children : the record says that the 
miraculous birth of Christ was her first born son,*" 
indicating that subsequently, as the lawful wife of 
Joseph, she was the mother of other children ; and 



THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


331 


this intimation is confirmed by the testimony ofHhc 
Jews, who said, ^‘Is not this the carpenter's son ? 
Is not his mother called Mary ? and his brethren 
James and Joses, and Simon and Judas ? And his 
sisters, are they not all with us ?” We behold her 
a devoutly pious woman, of unquestioning faith, of 
unsullied character, who, accomplishing the high¬ 
est, holiest earthly mission, and saved by the same 
gracious, atoning merit, in which is all our hope, 
entering heaven, and there singing the anthem of 
the redeemed—To Him who was slain, and re¬ 
deemed us to God by His blood." 

The prophecy said, All nations shall call her 
blessed." We do so to-day ; and when life's fit¬ 
ful fever shall be o'er," we hope to meet her in the 
better land, and bowing with her, before the daz¬ 
zling throne of her God and ours, and casting our 
crown where she casts hers, at those glorified feet, 
which yet bear the nail scars of the cross, evermore 
join our voices wi^h hers in the loud praises of re¬ 
deeming grace and dying love. 



332 


earth’s angels. 


EARTH’S ANOELS. 


BY MISS MARTHA JACOBS. 


Why come not spirits from the realms of glory 
To visit earth as in the days of old, 

The times of sacred writ and ancient story'? 

Is heaven more distant 1 or has earth grown cold I 

Oft have I gazed when sunset clouds receding 
Waved like rich banners at a host gone by, 

To catch the gleam of some white pinion speeding 
Along the confines of the glowing sky. 

And oft when midnight stars in distant chillness 
Were calmly burning, listened late and long. 

But nature’s pulse beat on in solemn stillness, 

Bearing no echo of the seraph’s song. 

To Bethlehem’s air was their last anthem given. 

When other stars before The One grew dim '? 

Was their last presence known in Peter’s prison 1 
Or where exulting martyrs raised their hymn 7 

And are they all within the veil departed! 

There gleams no wing along the empyrean now; 

And many a tear from human eyes has started, 

Since angel touch has calmed a mortal brow. 



EARTH'S ANGELS. 


333 


No: earth has angels, tho’ their forms are moulded 
But of such clay as fashions all below, 

Though harps are wanting and bright pinions folded 
We know them by the love-light on their brow. 

I have seen angels, by the sick one’s pillow, 

Theirs was the soft tone and the soundless tread; 

Where smitten hearts were drooping like the willow. 
They stood “ between the living and the dead.” 

And if my sight by earthly dimness hindered 
Beheld no hovering cherubim in air, 

I doubted not, for spirits know their kindred, 

They smiled upon the wingless watchers there. 

There have been angels in the gloomy prisons. 

In crowned halls—by the lone widow’s hearth; 

And where they passed, the fallen have uprisen— 
The giddy paused—the mourner’s hope had birth. 

I have seen one whose eloquence commanding 
Roused the rich echoes of the human breast; 

The blandishments of wealth and ease withstanding, 
That hope might reach the suffering and opprest 

And by his side there moved a form of beauty 
Strewing sweet flowers along his path of life, 

And looking up with meek and love-lent duty ; 

I call her angel, but he called her Wife. 

0 many a spirit walks the world unheeded. 

That, when its veil of sadness is laid down, 

Shall soar aloft with pinions unimpeded. 

And wear its glory like a starry crown. 


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